


Deuce of Hearts

by hannasus



Category: Firefly
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Community: truthsome_fic, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-05
Updated: 2010-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannasus/pseuds/hannasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Money's tight, jobs are scarce, the crew's at each others' throats, and Kaylee gets kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2006 Truthsome Ficathon. This story is intended to read like a lost episode of _Firefly_. It's an ensemble piece and not overly shippery, but there's some Mal/Inara and some Zoe/Wash (and even some Mal/Kaylee, but Not In That Way) for those looking for Ye Olde UST.

_I'd often like to lie atop a hill, _   
_Instead I suffer hardship, lacking money. _   
_Golden flecks in the ash of cassia wood, _   
_My great ideals decline more year by year. _   
_As the sun goes down, a chilling wind appears, _   
_To hear cicadas makes me sorrow more. _   
  
_\--Mèng Hàorán_

 

Malcolm Reynolds had never been overly fond of quiet.

It was always in the quiet times when things seemed to fall apart. Not in the big flashy moments, or the exciting, heart-in-your-throat situations. No, when things fell apart all on their own they tended to do it when no one was looking. Like a shooting star falling out of the sky when there was no one around to even notice.

Things had been quiet on _Serenity_ for a while now and Mal didn't like it, not one gorram bit. Work had been scarce of late. Real scarce. He'd sent out discreet inquiries in all the directions he could think of, and when that hadn't worked he'd sent out some more, not-so-discreet inquiries. So far nothing of any use had turned up, though, which was... discouraging.

Money was a becoming a serious issue--fuel and decent rations were both dangerously low. On top of that, his crew had been idle for far too long, cooped up on the ship without much in the way of a purpose. It was a recipe for disaster, and Mal didn't have the faintest notion what to do about it.

It was a problem--one he needed to think on some more. First, though, he was going to eat some breakfast.

Mal ran his hand uselessly through his hair one last time before climbing the ladder up to the foredeck. It was morning, or what passed for morning out in the black--a meaningless, arbitrary designation, meant to keep folk from losing their minds in the endless span of time.

He heard the fussing and hollering before he even made it halfway to the galley.

"You make her give it back, Doc, or I'm comin' over there and takin' it from her!" bellowed Jayne.

"It's just a can of beanie weenies," said Shepherd Book. "You can't let the girl have it?"

"It ain't _just_ a can of beanie weenies, it's the last can of beanie weenies and she stole it outta my bunk!"

"How do you even know that?" said Simon.

"I been saving 'em! I had a can stashed under my bed and now they're gone and she mysteriously come up with a can of franks and beans wasn't in the pantry last night."

Mal leaned against the hatchway, taking in the scene with a mixture of despair and irritation.

Simon and Book were standing in front of River, trying to shield the girl from the advancing Jayne. River, meanwhile, seemed to be completely unaware of the tension in the room.

"Wieners are made of mechanically separated chicken," she said to no one in particular. "Synthetic beef product. Sodium phosphate. Sodium erythorbate. Sodium nitrite."

"Let the girl have the beans," said Zoe quietly. She was sitting at the table, staring down into her coffee cup like she was reading secret messages there.

"Girl took something that's mine and I'm just supposed to overlook that?" said Jayne. "A grown man can't be letting a girl--"

The shepherd sniffed. "Who's the grown man?"

Jayne spun on him. "You wanna dance, preacher-man?"

"So now you're going to beat up a preacher over a can of beans?" said Simon derisively.

Jayne jabbed a finger into Simon's sternum. "I ain't talkin' to you, Doc, so whyn't you go shove that namby-pamby dick a yours up a--"

"Jayne," said Mal sharply. Everyone turned to look at him. Everyone except Zoe, who'd surely known he was there all along.

"Do us all a courtesy and sit down and shut the gorram hell up. You heard Zoe."

"But Mal--"

"You really lookin' to get into it with me?"

Jayne cussed under his breath, but sat down at the table like he'd been told.

"It's too much sodium," said River, wrinkling her brow in concentration as she studied the label on the contested can of beanie weenies.

Mal turned on Simon. "I catch her nosing around in any of the crew bunks again I'm confining her to the passenger dorm full time, you hear?"

Simon pursed his lips resentfully, but didn't backtalk any, which was a blessing.

"Symptoms of sodium toxicity include edema--excessive accumulation of serous fluid in tissue spaces or body cavity--and hypertension," said River.

That crazy damn girl was gonna be his downfall, he just knew it. Mal walked over and poured himself a much-needed cup of coffee. He took a drink and nearly gagged on it. "What in the hell is this?"

"It's coffee, sir," said Zoe.

"That ain't coffee. For starters it's cold. Also, tastes like bilge water ."

"Funny how coffee don't tend to brew right when you just soak the grounds in cold water for a spell."

Mal felt the first dull throb of a headache coming on at the base of his skull. He rubbed his fingers across his forehead, trying to stave it off. "Stove's still broke?"

"Not like we have any real food left to cook on the damn stove anyway," said Jayne.

Mal shot him a look. "You gonna hobble that lip or do I need to do it for you?"

"He has an adversarial relationship with his food," said River. Mal couldn't tell if she was talking about him or Jayne and didn't much care to know.

He grabbed himself a bowl of the protein paste they'd all been eating too much of lately and took a seat across from Zoe. "Just once, I wish I could eat my breakfast in peace and quietude."

Jayne snorted. "Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which one gets filled the fastest."

Mal slammed his cup down on the table with enough force to leave an imprint in the wood. Cold coffee-water splashed over the tabletop.

"Maybe I'll just eat my cold protein mash in my bunk," said Jayne.

"You do that."

Jayne angrily pushed back his chair and stormed out of the room, nearly shoving Wash up against the bulkhead as they passed in the hatchway.

"What was--" Wash started to ask, but dropped it on a look from Mal. He shrugged and grabbed a bowl of food for himself. "Wave come in for you, Mal, on a delay. From Espinosa."

Now that was interesting. Mal just wasn't sure if it was the good kind of interesting or the bad kind. Achilles Espinosa was a fellow he'd met just after the war. They'd worked together on an old salvage boat for a spell, until Espinosa had come into a chunk of coin under somewhat murky circumstances and started up his own operation. Nowadays he was mostly retired from smuggling and spent his time running a casino on Santo, but he could always be counted on to have more than a few pokers in the fire.

Zoe looked at Mal sharply. "What's that about, you think?"

"Could be he's got wind of a job for us." Mal quietly took note of the fact that Wash sat himself down by the doctor--at the opposite end of the table from Zoe.

"Could be he's missing that 50 platinum you owe him," said Zoe, never even glancing in her husband's direction.

Which could only mean things were still sour between Zoe and Wash--just one more damn problem Mal had to worry about.

There'd been arguments aplenty between those two over the years, but this was something else. Hell, they'd spent most of Wash's first year on the boat at each other's throats, and a lot of the time since, even after they'd gotten lovesome with one another. Arguing was normal; it was the silence between them now that Mal found unnerving. He knew better than anyone that the quieter Zoe was, the more dangerous she generally became. And a quiet Wash--well, a quiet Wash was just downright unsettling.

Mal pushed back his chair, grateful for an excuse to make himself scarce. "Reckon I'll go find out what Espinosa wants."

He made his way to the bridge and pulled up the prerecorded message. Espinosa's grizzled mug filled the screen, grinning crookedly.

"Malcolm Reynolds," said the old rocket-jock. "Been a long time. I got a piece of information I thought I'd pass on, just to be friendly and such."

Mal rolled his eyes. If Espinosa was being friendly then Mal was a little leather-winged bat.

"Contact of mine on Beylix knows of a guy got some cargo needs transporting. He's in a bit of a hurry, see, and willing to pay extra to get it moved in the next day or two. I thought maybe if you were in the area... look up a fellow named Durant, works outta Thermopolis, tell him I sent ya."

Now that was definitely promising, Mal thought. This panned out he might just have to give Espinosa a big ol' kiss on the mouth next time he saw him.

"Guess that's all. You be taking care of yourself out there, Reynolds. And you might want to think about stopping by my place on Santo pretty soon--one of these days I'm gonna come looking for that seventy-five you owe me."

"Fifty!" Mal protested futilely to the recording. "It was fifty, you mangy old cur."

"Pass on my regards to Zoe," Espinosa went on. "Assuming she's still tagging along after your sorry ass, that is." The transmission ended.

Mal shut off the display and leaned back in the pilot's chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. A job. A real, honest-to-god job. Maybe things were finally starting to look up for a change.


	2. Act One

"_Kaylee_!" Mal roared as he walked toward the engine room.

Instead of Kaylee, he found himself face-to-face with Inara, which threw him a little. "Inara. I was--what're you doin' in here?"

Kaylee crawled out of from under the engine. "Hey, Cap'n!"

Inara smiled serenely. "Kaylee was just showing me how _Serenity_'s propulsion system works."

"Oh, that's--huh."

"You look surprised, Mal."

"I just didn't know you were partial to machinery and such. Wouldn't have thought it was quite your cup of tea, so to speak."

Kaylee practically beamed with pride. "That's what I thought, Cap'n, but Inara said she wanted to know more about how _Serenity_ works."

Kaylee's cheerfulness was in sharp contrast to the frayed tempers plaguing the rest of the crew. It'd take a powerful thunderstorm to rain on Kaylee's mood. No matter how bleak things were, she could always be counted on for a smile. It was one of the things Mal treasured most about her, though he'd never admit to it. Not out loud, anyway.

"It's fascinating," said Inara. "Such a complex set of systems and Kaylee knows how every inch of it works."

Mal recalled why he'd come into the engine room in the first place and tried to look stern. It was hard enough sustaining a scowl around Kaylee without Inara turning up and distracting him with her bare midriff and shiny lips. And the smell of her--all flowery and herblike--it made his head swim.

"What's the matter, Cap'n? You look cross."

"That's on account of I am cross, Kaylee. You know why? 'Cause my breakfast was cold. I thought you were gonna fix the gorram stove."

She shook her head. "No can do, that was our last heating element that burned out."

"Can't you--I don't know--magic it back together somehow?"

"Nope. Got completely fried--it's nothing but a melted lump of metal, now. Gonna have to get a replacement somewhere if you wanna use the stove."

"Ain't no money for a replacement. And no time, neither. Wash is gonna be making a course correction, slingshotting around Triumph to point us toward Beylix. Set it up the way he needs--we ain't got no fuel to waste."

"Beylix? Why are we going--Cap'n, did we get a job?"

"Might be. Got a lead on one, anyhow."

Kaylee's whole face lit up. "Well ain't that shiny! See, Inara, what'd I say? Cap'n always looks out for us, sure as eggs is round."

"Yes, he does," said Inara, her dark eyes sparkling with something Mal couldn't quite read. He was never sure what was going on in that head of hers. Unless she was mad at him, of course--then she was easy to read.

"I believe eggs are really more of an oval kind of--well, egg-shaped, actually--but I take your drift." Mal pretended to study the press regulator so he didn't have to meet Inara's unsettling gaze. "Just tell me you can hold her together a little longer, Kaylee. Can't afford to have anything else breaking down until we get paid."

"I'll keep her in the air, don't you worry. Oh, hey! I could get some heating elements for the stove when we get to Beylix, and that fuse regulator we been needing, not to mention--"

"No shopping until we get paid."

"I've got some redundant parts squirreled away, I could sweet talk Woo-Ping into trading for some of the stuff we need. Leastways an old heating element for the stove."

"That's my girl." Mal reached out to ruffle her hair, but Kaylee ducked and batted his hand away, flashing a smile sweet enough to melt even his mean old heart.

* * *

  
Kaylee grabbed the knapsack she'd packed with spare parts to entice Woo-Ping and sprinted down the stairs and across the cargo bay. Unfortunately, she was running so fast her foot caught on a deckplate in the airlock and she went careening down the ramp, barely kept her footing, and only managed to come to a stop by crashing into Jayne.

"Gorram it, girl, get offa me!"

"Sorry!" said Kaylee.

"And _that's_ why we don't run on the ship," said Mal. Beside him, Zoe was covering her mouth to hide a laugh.

Kaylee pretended to look contrite. "Sorry, Cap'n."

He pointed a finger at her. "You got one hour, not a minute more you, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Jayne, you're going with her."

"What?" said Jayne. "Aw, Mal, I don't wanna go to Woo-Ping's, it smells like a baboon's armpit in that place."

"Then you should feel right at home," said Mal, slapping him on the back.

The captain turned and looked pointedly at Wash. "No one leaves the ship. We're only staying on this rock long enough to work out the details of this job so there's not to be any sightseeing today."

Wash gave a mock salute. "Aye aye, Captain. Anyone tries to leave, I'll duct tape 'em to the hull."

Kaylee stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Wash's cheek. "Take care of our girl 'til I get back."

Normally she was the one left behind on the ship with Wash while the captain and Zoe and Jayne were out on jobs. They'd passed a lot of time together, her and Wash, partners in worrying, waiting on the others and taking care of _Serenity_. Much as _Serenity_ was the captain's ship, most times Kaylee felt like she and Wash were her real parents.

"Aw, shucks, ma'am." He batted his eyes at her, pretending to look bashful.

Kaylee expected to find Zoe smiling at that, but instead she gave Wash a look sour as a lemon and turned away.

The captain grabbed Kaylee by the shoulders and gave her a gentle push. "Best get a wiggle on, Kaylee."

"Sure, Cap'n, see ya later." Kaylee slipped her arm around Jayne's elbow and dragged him toward Woo-Ping's.

"One hour!" Mal yelled after them.

Of all the cities in the 'verse, Thermopolis was one of Kaylee's favorites. It weren't much to look at, on account of the dense cloud cover that surrounded the whole planet. And, sure, Beylix was the system's garbage dump, which meant that it was mostly nothing but scrap yards and refuse centers and recycling stations. But that was exactly why Kaylee loved it.

Because what was considered trash on the Core planets was treasure out here on the Rim. Thermopolis, the biggest city on Beylix, was teeming with junk dealers, scrap shops and yards full of all manner of rebuilt ships. Also smugglers, thanks to the lack of Alliance interest in what was mostly considered an abandoned trash heap.

You could get just about anything in Thermopolis, so long as you didn't mind it being used, reconditioned or rebuilt entirely from old parts. Kaylee had been trading with Woo-Ping almost as long as she'd been aboard _Serenity_. He was mean haggler, but she could always count on him to have the parts she needed, and he was usually interested in the extra stuff she brought him.

"Isn't it nice to be off the ship for a change?" she said.

"Yeah," said Jayne. "It's gorram joy to stand around watching you bicker with that old man over a two-bit piece of junk for forty-five minutes." He took the knapsack from her and swung it over his own shoulder.

"Don't be such a grump. If I can get him to take one these old hydro pumps off my hands, I'll buy you a mooncake on the way back to the ship."

"Oh, goody," he said, rolling his eyes, but she could tell he was secretly pleased.

Kaylee didn't mind Jayne so much; he kind of reminded her of her brothers back home. He could be a real _wáng ba dàn_, no denying that, but deep down she knew he had his soft spots, just like everyone else.

"Hey, will you look at that?" he said, pausing in front of shop window. "You know what that is?"

Kaylee peered through the grimy glass. "A gun?"

"That there's a McCoy T-51 sniper rifle."

"It's very... long," said Kaylee, trying to seem interested.

"She's a real beaut. Bolt action with a five-round clip. That there'll stop a charging bull with one shot from a klick away. Only 500 of 'em ever made."

"You wanna go inside and have a look?" said Kaylee.

Jayne looked torn, but he shook his head. "No time. I'll come back next time we're hereabouts. If'n it's still in the shop, that is. Those things don't gen'rally sit on the shelf for long."

He seemed so sad, Kaylee couldn't hardly bear it. "Go on, Jayne. I can go to Woo-Ping's on my own. 'Sides, he gets a look at you he'll probably try to charge me twice as much." Woo-Ping had never developed much liking for Jayne.

"You sure?"

"Sure as shootin'. Go on, git."

Jayne handed her back the knapsack, clapped her on the back nearly hard enough to knock her over, and disappeared into the shop.

Truth be told, she was glad to be rid of him. Jayne always got bored when she was shopping for parts and he was a right grouch about it. This way she could enjoy herself without listening to all his bitching and complaining.

The day was about as bright as a day on Beylix ever got and Kaylee's feet were well-acquainted with the route from the Red Key Docks to Woo-Ping's shop in the Tinker's Quarter. Wan sunlight filtered dimly through the clouds giving a soft, hazy cast to the city and everything in it. The breeze carried the smell of smoking meat and steamed cabbage and sent the colored lanterns strung up along the store fronts swaying prettily.

As she walked, Kaylee's eye was caught by a thrift shop with a pretty lavender robe hanging out front. She stopped to run her fingers along the embroidered hem and snuck a glance at the price tag. Even four credits was rich for her, but Lord, it was pretty. If only--

A hand clamped down over her face as someone grabbed her from behind, forcing her back down a narrow alley between the shops. She tried to wrench herself away but the man was nearly as big as Jayne and he had her pinned with a forearm across her chest like a tree trunk so she could hardly even breathe. And he'd slapped some kind of tape over her mouth so she couldn't scream, even if she'd had the breath for it.

Kaylee saw another man loom out of the shadows in the alley and then she was shoved up hard against the wall while they tied her wrists together, so tight it made her eyes water. The bustle of folks in the street felt like it was miles away, for all that it was only a few yards. She could see the knapsack full of parts lying on the ground where she'd dropped it. Someone was gonna steal it, and she'd never get that heating element for the stove.

One of the men jerked her away from the wall and next thing she knew they'd lowered some kind of big barrel on top of her and then turned it over, spilling her awkwardly onto her head. Then a lid slammed down over the top, throwing her into pitch blackness except for the light trickling through a few small holes in the top.

Kaylee felt herself hoisted roughly into the air and carried away, off into the city.

* * *

  
Fear washed over River like a tide. Tugging at her, pulling her down.

Trytoscreamtrytorunawaycan'tcan'tcan't. Heart rate increasing, adrenaline pumping. Cold sweat, taste of fear. Struggle. Fight. Pain.

And then darkness.

_Round as an apple, deep as a cup._

She was gone, taken away.

_Serenity_ felt it, too. River was acutely aware of the ship's grief, a low, keening throb that ran down the walls and through the floors, up through the soles of feet, along her legs and straight into her heart like an arrow made of ice and steel.

_And all the king's horses can't fill it up_.

* * *

  
Zoe followed the captain back onto to _Serenity_ with something approaching regret. It'd been nice to step out in the world again, even if it was a _hóuzi de pìgu_ of a planet like Beylix. She wasn't usually one for getting landsick, but the last couple of weeks had been hard. No work, no money coming in, fuel and rations running low. Situation like that was bound to have an adverse effect on morale, make the close quarters on the ship feel even closer.

She hoped the troubles she and Wash had been having were just a symptom of that, but she had a fear it wasn't that simple. Fraying tempers among the crew were to be expected, but whatever was happening to Zoe's marriage was new to her.

Last few weeks, she and Wash had grown distant with one another, cold even. They hardly ever talked and when they did they usually ended up sniping at each other. It'd gotten to the point she could barely stand to have him touch her anymore. Not that Wash had seemed particularly inclined to touch her.

Zoe couldn't even remember who'd started to pull away first--which maybe meant it had been her. All she knew was they were like two strangers living in the same space and it'd got so she could hardly stand it.

It made her uncomfortable to think that Mal had to have noticed--he knew her too well, kept too sharp an eye on his crew for something like this to pass under the radar of Malcolm Reynolds. Bless him, though, he never said a word. Zoe just hoped the rest of the crew hadn't picked up on it. Not too much, anyway.

At least now they had a job to look forward to--a decent one, even--and the promise of a shiny paycheck at the end of it.

Wash and Jayne had just finished up dumping _Serenity_'s waste water tanks with Shepherd Book's help and they all looked up expectantly at the captain's return. Zoe couldn't help noticing the way her husband didn't even throw a glance in her direction.

"What's the news?" said Wash with a cheer that probably only she knew was forced.

"Got ourselves a job," said Mal.

Jayne whooped and Wash's smile got a little more genuine, though it still didn't turn her way.

"It's on the simple side," said Mal, "but the money's good. Pick up a shipment of livestock here on Beylix and transport it to Despina. Practically a milk run--we can be done and paid in a few short hours if we hustle."

"Livestock?" said Jayne. "Ain't cows again, is it? Hold stank like a cow's ass for a solid month after the last time."

"T'ain't cows," said Mal. "Something called cara--carca--"

"Carcajou," supplied Zoe, suppressing a smile.

"Yeah, that. Somewhat smaller and fuzzier than cows, I reckon. Breeder on Despina wants to raise 'em for their fur but the Alliance got strict rules against importing and exporting the little devils."

"How come?" said the shepherd.

Mal shrugged. "Don't know and don't care to."

"And the pay's good?" said Jayne.

"Three hundred in pretty platinum coins," said Mal.

Jayne whistled in appreciation. "Not bad for a one-day job."

"Seem a little strange, getting paid so much for something so simple?" asked Book.

"Skirting the Alliance is never simple," said Mal. "And anyhow I'm disinclined to look a gift horse in the pearly whites just now. Feels like a reliable job, though, right Zoe?"

"Near enough."

The captain handed Wash a data disc. "There's the coordinates for the pickup, somewhere outside of Sinclair. They need the goods delivered today, so let's grab some sky."

"Yeah, uh, Captain... about that," said Jayne, looking suddenly guilty as a dog who'd stolen the Christmas goose.

Mal raised an eyebrow. "Jayne, you fixin' to ruin my fine mood?"

"It's just that Kaylee ain't back yet."

Zoe noted the way Mal's jaw clenched and winced inwardly.

"What do you mean, she ain't back?" he said in an unnaturally quiet voice. "Kaylee's with you, Jayne. I distinctly remember giving you an order to that effect. Don't you remember me giving such an order, Zoe?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"She told me to go on, Mal! She said she'd be fine, and I thought--"

"What'd I tell you 'bout thinking?" the captain snapped. "I tell you to go with her, it ain't up to you or Kaylee to say otherwise."

"I'm sorry, Mal, I--"

The captain turned his back coldly on Jayne. "Zoe, take Jayne here and fetch little Miss Kaylee back, would you please?"

"Yes, sir."

Zoe almost felt sorry for Jayne. Almost.

* * *

  
Inara hadn't been especially sorry to miss out on the excursion into Thermopolis. Beylix wasn't exactly her kind of planet--perpetually gray and cloudy, populated primarily by smugglers, scavengers, and junk dealers. Part of her wished that they were staying longer, though. Too many people sharing a too-small space could be wearing after a while. Everyone had been in a temper lately and Inara thought a few hours of shore leave, even in a depressing place like Beylix, might do them all some good. Even her shuttle had begun to feel confining to her, and so she'd come up to the galley with a book of poetry to take advantage of the relative peace of the common area while most of the crew was away.

Inara flipped through the pages of the book, looking for the spot she'd left off, and then paused, listening. She thought she'd heard something--a sort of muffled whimpering.

She followed the sound down the aft passage and into the engine room where she found a small, frail form cocooned in Kaylee's hammock. It was River, her long dark hair cascading over the edge of the brightly-colored fabric. She was shaking and muttering to herself the way that she did whenever something very bad was about to happen.

"River?" Inara moved toward her, trying to shake off the prickle of foreboding.

"Gone," River was saying over and over. "Gone. Gone. Gone."

Inara laid a gentle hand on the girl's cheek. "What's the matter, baby?"

"They took her away. Closed the lid up tight."

"Took who?"

"Kaylee."

Inara's mouth went dry and she took an involuntary step backward.

River followed her with wide, tear-stained eyes that saw far too much. "Who will _Serenity_ talk to now? Who'll understand her?"

"Inara?" Shepherd Book appeared in the hatchway. "I thought I heard--" His eyes fell on River. "Is she all right?"

"I don't know," said Inara. "She's had another... episode."

"I'll fetch her brother."

"Shepherd," Inara called after him. "Have you seen Kaylee?"

He turned and gave her a sharp look. "Funny you should ask."

"Why?"

"Seems she hasn't come back yet. Captain's in a foul fettle, I hear."

Inara felt herself go pale, and turned away from the shepherd so that he wouldn't see the fear that must surely be written on her face.

"Gone," River continued to whisper to herself. "Gone. Gone. Gone."

* * *

  
"Wash, how we lookin' for fuel?"

Wash's voice crackled over the comm system. "Not great, Mal. The course correction used up a lot of our reserves."

Mal grimaced. "Can we get the job done? That's what I need to hear from you right now."

There was a pause. "It'll be a close thing, but yeah, as long as we get straight there and back with no distractions."

"Suppose we better not be having any distractions, then."

Mal walked back over to the mule and glared at it. Gorram starter had given out on him. _Serenity_ was falling apart around him and if they didn't get this paycheck--well, he didn't like to think about that.

He pulled a power wrench out of the toolbox, only to discover the power pack had given out so it was about as useful as box of hair. He cussed and hurled the wrench across the cargo bay, then winced as it bounced off an ammo crate.

Why couldn't things ever just go smooth? Kaylee knew better than to go and wander off like that. He'd been in a fine mood, too. Now half of his crew was out taking a walkabout instead of on their way to doing the perfectly respectable smuggling he'd lined up. And here he was couldn't hardly get anything done anyway for worrying about Kaylee.

Probably the girl had just got carried away wrangling with Woo-Ping over engine bits and she'd be back in no time, full of apologies. Except the longer she was gone the less likely that theory was starting to seem. There was a client waiting on them, and time was rushing by, moving toward the moment when Mal was going to have to make a decision, one way or the other. A decision he didn't want to make.

He shook his head, trying to push it all away and concentrate on the work at hand. One obstacle at a time, that was the way to do it.

"Mal."

Inara. Must be his lucky day. Mal didn't even have to look at her to know that it was gonna be one of those conversations; he could tell from her tone, all uppity and tense.

"If you come to ask me to dance, I'm gonna have to regretfully decline," said Mal, reaching for another wrench. "There's work to be done and I don't seem to have enough crew about to do it at the moment."

"River's upset," said Inara. "I found her in the engine room crying."

He looked up sharply. "She didn't touch anything, did she?"

"No, she... she seems to think Kaylee's in some kind of danger."

That gave him pause. He tried not to show it, though. "Wouldn't put too much stock in that girl's babbling. We both know she ain't got both oars in the water."

"But Kaylee's missing, isn't she?"

He concentrated on the mule's starter, grateful for something to look at that wasn't Inara. "Wouldn't say missing. More like late. Probably got distracted by some _shuài_ fellow she saw in town."

"You don't believe that."

He grit his teeth and tugged ineffectually at one of the bolts. "And you'd know all about what I do and don't believe?"

"Mal--"

He gave up on the mule, straightened and looked at her levelly. "I understand the worry, it being Kaylee and all, but don't waste your time frettin'. Zoe and Jayne'll be along any minute now with the girl in tow and I'll give her a year of septic flush duty for being such a thorn in my side."

"And if they don't find her?"

Something in his jaw clenched just a little bit. "We got a pickup to make on the other side of the planet won't be waiting on us forever."

Inara looked at him incredulously. "You'd actually go off and leave her here?"

He made a concerted effort to keep his voice calm and even. "In case you haven't noticed, we ain't so well off we can afford to turn down a job like this. A member of the crew decides to go AWOL we ain't got the leisure to wait around."

"Mal, you can't!"

"Don't tell me what I can't do on my gorram ship!" So much for calm and even.

But Inara didn't even blink. "Yes, I get it, you're the captain, you're the boss of us all. This isn't about who gets to give the orders--"

"This is about I got a job to do ain't got nothing to do with you. I don't barge into your shuttle telling you how to do your whoring, you don't stand in my cargo bay telling me how to do my smuggling. I seem to recall we had an understanding to that effect."

The smooth facade Inara usually wore slipped a bit and Mal got a glimpse of what lay behind it: fear. "Kaylee would never run off for no reason," she said in a quiet voice she hardly ever used with him. "If she's not back yet it's because she's in trouble."

Some of the anger drained out of him. "I look like some kind of soft-in-the-head idiot you reckon I don't know that?" he said quietly.

Inara opened her mouth to retort but Mal held up his hand. "Don't answer that, it might ruin my fine mood."

"Is it true that Kaylee's missing?" Simon stepped out of the hatch to the passenger dorms, looking anxious as a mother hen. Just what Mal needed--more folks working themselves into a flippy-hiss over Kaylee.

Fortunately, Zoe saved him the trouble of talking to Simon by showing up with Jayne on her heels. Just the two of them, Mal noted grimly.

"Well?" he said, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"She's nowhere, Mal," said Jayne. "We looked everwhere, too. She's just gone. Never even got to Woo-Ping's."

Mal looked over at Zoe. She had that crinkle around her eyes that she got whenever she had bad news to deliver. "I'm guessing there's more," he said.

"Found these hanging up outside the magistrate's office." She pulled a couple of paper fliers out of her pocket and laid them out face-up on one of the storage bins.

Mal peered down at them, felt Simon and Inara come up beside him to do the same. They were missing person notices. Both for sweet-faced girls who'd disappeared recently.

"Talked to the clerk," said Zoe. "Seems near half-a-dozen girls have gone missing in the last two weeks, mostly from around the Tinker's Quarter."

"Damn," said Mal.

"What does it mean?" asked Simon.

"Slavers," said Zoe flatly.

"I thought slavers usually kidnapped men for the workhouses," said Simon, ever two steps behind the parade.

"Different kind of slavers," said Mal, rubbing his brow with the back of his hand. "Different kind of house, the kind full of young girls."

"Oh," said Simon, finally getting it.

Mal's eyes flicked over to Inara before he could stop himself. Every single time he'd thrown the word whore at her came back to him, pricking like burrs under his collar.

She stared back at him full of cold blame. _Look what you've done to Kaylee now_, those dark eyes were saying.

"Slavers ain't so bad," said Jayne. "Least they'll keep her alive. Better'n organ dealers."

Sweet little Kaylee with the teddy bear on her coveralls. The girl who'd insisted on painting flowers all over the kitchen of his ship and who could replace a blocked intake valve in 43 seconds flat. An image came to him of Kaylee, flat on her back with some meaty, bedsore of a man holding her down, ripping those teddy bear coveralls off of her, forcing her legs apart while she struggled and cried--

Mal lashed out at the closest thing to hand worth lashing out at and punched Jayne square in the face. Taken off guard, the big man went sprawling on the floor.

"_Bèn tiānshēng de yī duī ròu!_" Mal spat, still trying to rid himself of that image of Kaylee.

"Ruttin' hell!" Jayne wiped at the blood running from his nose and glared up at Mal with angry, violent eyes.

Okay, so hitting a granite-jawed maniac who could probably punch a rhinoceros to death with his bare hands wasn't exactly Mal's best idea ever. No taking it back now, though. Zoe took a warning step toward Jayne, hand on her weapon, quietly reminding him of his place in the hierarchy.

Mal clenched his fist, trying to ignore the pain in his hand. "Gorram it, Jayne, this is your fault."

"My fault?" said Jayne, pulling himself carefully to his feet.

"If you'd gone with her like I told you to, she'd be safe on the ship right now and we'd be halfway to a paycheck on Despina."

"Or maybe Kaylee'd still be just as taken and I'd have a bad case of being dead from trying to protect her. You ever think of that?"

"And that'd be a powerful shame, would it?" Mal walked over and angrily punched the button to shut the airlock. With his sore hand. He winced and rubbed his knuckles.

"This isn't helping Kaylee," said Simon. "How are we going to get her back?"

Everyone looked at Mal expectantly. That's the way it was. Things went pear-shaped they looked to him to come up with a plan. It was only later that they started in with the arguing and the complaining.

_Cap'n always looks out for us._

He stared at the comm panel. "We need that money in a bad way."

"Mal!" The reproach in Inara's voice rubbed him like sandpaper on a sunburn.

_Sure as eggs is round._

He hit the comm. "Wash, get us off the ground and make for that rendezvous in Sinclair."


	3. Teaser

"You're choosing money over Kaylee's life!" Simon yelled over the roar of the engines. "I always knew you were an opportunistic _húndàn_, but this is going too far!" He'd gotten himself right up in Mal's face and if there was one thing Mal hated more than being told what to do, it was when people got up in his face.

He gave Simon a look fit to freeze the the nuts off a squirrel and let his voice drop to a low, menacing snarl. "Doctor, you're gonna want to take two generous steps back, or else you're gonna find yourself tossed out of that airlock."

Simon shut his trap and backed up more than the required two steps.

"Kaylee believes in you," said Inara. She was flushed and shaking, about as angry as he'd ever seen her. "She trusts you to protect her and you're just going to abandon her? That girl worships you and you--"

Something on Mal's face must have finally stopped her because she snapped her mouth shut, leaving the thought unfinished. _Serenity_ shuddered around them as the engine pods rotated to propel the ship westward, away from Thermopolis.

"I'm the captain of this boat," said Mal, his voice coming out flat with barely-suppressed fury, "which means when push comes to shove I'm the one makes the hard decisions. We don't do this job, _Serenity_ don't fly anymore. So we are _doing this job_ and it's not up for debate in any gorram committees. _Dǒng le ma?_"

No one said anything to contradict him for a change. The way it oughta be. "Zoe, you're taking _Serenity_ and making that pickup. Me and Jayne are going back for Kaylee in the shuttle."

The barest trace of a smile hovered at the corner of Zoe's mouth. "Yes, sir." Everyone else might doubt him, but Zoe knew him too well for that. Never leave a man behind. Or a sweet, helpless girl who couldn't hardly defend herself against an enthusiastic dumpling vendor.

"Can I ask, _Captain_," said Inara placing bitter emphasis on the last word, "exactly how you plan on finding her? Go door-to-door asking if anyone knows where the slavers live?"

Mal swung around to face her, eyebrows raised mockingly. "Think that'd work?"

"Probably best to start at the local whorehouses," piped up Jayne, earning himself eyerolls and groans from most everyone standing around him. "What? You're saying we shouldn't look for whores in a whorehouse?"

Zoe shook her head. "They'll wanna take the girls to work somewhere offworld, somewhere they've got no hope of escaping and getting back home."

Mal nodded thoughtfully. "Means they're holding 'em somewhere quiet and out-of-the-way until they're ready to pick up and transport 'em to their glamorous new life."

"What you need is a minnow in the water," said Zoe. "Sir, maybe I should--"

"You ain't exactly their type," said Mal. "They'll be looking for easy targets--weak, helpless. No offense, Zoe, but I don't imagine you know a lot about being vulnerable."

"I reckon that's true," said Zoe.

"You're talking about bait," said Inara.

Mal ignored her, kept his attention fixed on Zoe. "Anyways, I need you with _Serenity_, making sure that job gets done and we get paid. That getting paid part's important."

"I'll do it," said Inara. "I can be a minnow."

"No," said Mal flatly.

Her eyes flashed in challenge. "Why? Because I'm not helpless enough or because I'm too helpless?"

"It's too dangerous, Inara. They already got Kaylee, I'm not handing you over to them, too."

"I can handle it. I only have to play along until they take me to wherever they're keeping the girls, right? Then you and Jayne can rush to my rescue like a couple of knights in dingy battered armor."

Mal crossed his arms stubbornly. "They won't go for it, they'll make you for a fine lady straight away."

"You let me take care of that."

"I don't like it." Somehow he sensed that he'd already lost, and wondered how and when that had happened.

"Do you have a better idea?" said Inara.

He thought about it. "That knocking on doors plan didn't sound so bad."

She looked at him with those doe-soft eyes of hers, the ones that were liable to make him melt into his boots if he wasn't careful. "Kaylee's in trouble, Mal. Whatever the danger, it's worth it."

And he couldn't think of a damn thing to say to that.

 

* * *

  
Kaylee was jostled around in the container for what seemed like an hour but was probably closer to half that. She tried to listen to the sounds of the city around her, to figure out where she was, but it was no use. Then she got a big whiff of engine exhaust and realized they'd brought her to one of Thermopolis' many space docks.

She started to panic all over again at the thought of being stowed on a ship and whisked off to Lord-knows-where without anyone being the wiser. What was she thinking sending Jayne off like that? _Oh, the captain's gonna be so mad at me_. She struggled against the lid with all her might and when that didn't work she tried throwing her weight against different sides of the container, trying to knock it out of the grip of whoever was hauling her around. That didn't work either, though, and then she heard the sound of a ship's hatch opening and closing and boots clomping on deckplates, and she knew she was well and truly cooked.

A minute later she felt the basket start to tilt and she was dumped out on the floor, about as graceful as a cow on a water slide. The sudden light blinded her and she blinked, trying to clear her vision.

She looked to be in the officer's quarters of a mid-sized transport. One of the late-model Monroe ships, maybe an AC-series, with a lot of aftermarket modifications.

It was only after she'd identified the ship that she noticed the folks in the room with her. Two mean-looking goon types--probably the lugs who'd snatched and carried her here--and a plump, middle-aged woman with gray-streaked black hair that was pulled into a loose bun.

The woman was peering down at Kaylee and smiled when she saw Kaylee looking back. "You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" She gestured impatiently at the goon on the left. "Don't just stand there, get that awful tape off her face and unbind her."

The cord around her wrists was cut and the tape on her mouth ruthlessly ripped away, taking a little bit of skin with it. "Ow!" Kaylee pressed her hand against her mouth.

"I am sorry about that," said the woman kindly. "Nasty business, but it's all right, honey, you're safe now." Her words were nice enough, but something in her manner whispered the lie of them.

"I need to get back," said Kaylee, pulling herself to her feet. "I got people waiting on me."

She thought she saw a flicker of irritation flit across the woman's face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Kaylee."

"Kaylee. That's a pretty name. My name's Hope."

"The captain will come looking for me, you know."

"I wouldn't worry about your captain. Why, I'll bet he's forgotten all about you by now."

"He wouldn't never do that!"

"Oh, now you're upset. It's not good for a girl your age to worry so much. Frown lines, you know. Lucky for you I've got just the thing to cheer you up." She picked up a crystal bowl full of fresh fruit--apples and melons and strawberries and some things so fine Kaylee didn't even recognize them--and held it out. "Go on, dear, take one. Goodness, take more than one, you look hungry. Are you hungry, sweetie?"

Kaylee stubbornly shook her head, though in point of fact she was starving, and after eating nothing but molded protein for weeks the smell of those strawberries was like to make her faint.

"Suit yourself." Hope set the bowl down again. "Things are going to be different from now on, Kaylee, so you just forget all about that mean old captain. I want you to think of me as your mama from now on. We're going to have a fine time together, you and me and the other girls. You'll see."

Kaylee thought she might have an idea as to what that meant, and it filled her up with fear. "Please, I need to go home."

The woman smiled a cold, bland smile that didn't make it all the way to her eyes. "Kaylee, sweetie, you are home."

* * *

  
Mal stood outside the hatch to Shepherd Book's quarters, wondering if he had gone a little soft in the head. Hell, he thought, couldn't hurt, could it? He raised his hand and knocked. A moment later Book opened the door.

"Captain," he said, looking surprised, but trying to mask it.

"I heard you were looking after River," said Mal.

Book nodded. "She was rather upset, before, but she seems to have calmed down somewhat."

"She up for a visitor?"

"I don't see why not." Book stood aside, implicitly inviting Mal to enter. He could tell by the shepherd's expression that he didn't quite trust him around the girl, though. Mal tried not to take offense, though it rankled him.

River was sitting cross-legged on the shepherd's bunk, playing with a deck of cards, turning them face-up one by one.

"Hey there, little one," said Mal, as gently as he could.

River's eyes flicked over to him, then back to the cards. "King of kites."

"You like cards?" said Mal.

"Seven of plums," said River, laying the card down on the mattress.

"Sure is," said Mal. "Inara thinks you might know something about Kaylee. That right?"

River looked up at him with those creepifying eyes of hers that always seemed to see right through him. It took all his will not to look away. "Queen of hearts," she said, laying down another card.

This was an unholy waste of time. He'd figured it would be, but at least he'd given it a shot. He turned to go.

"Hope," said River.

Mal turned around. "What?"

"Hope's got Kaylee."

"I don't know what that means." He looked over at Book, but the preacher was obviously just as mystified as Mal. "Is Kaylee all right? Is she... alive still?" It cost him to ask that last part, to give voice to the fear that'd plagued him from the minute he'd heard Kaylee'd gone missing.

"She's alive." River closed her eyes and smiled. "Strawberries are her favorite."

Mal didn't know what to make of that, but pressed on. "Do you know where she is? Can you tell me where to look, where to find Kaylee?"

River turned over another card. Smiled. "Deuce of hearts."

And she was back on the cards. Obviously he wasn't getting anything more useful out of the girl. He tried to take comfort in the fact that Kaylee was alive. He wanted to believe River was right about that part, anyway.

Mal bid goodbye to the shepherd and made his way up to the bridge in search of Zoe and Wash.

He could hear their bickering halfway down the foredeck passage. They shut up as soon as they caught sight of him, though, sparing him the chore of having to find out what it was about.

"Everything set?" he said.

"We'll be at the rendezvous in an hour," said Wash. "Fuel reserves should get us from there to Despina and back if we don't burn too hot."

Mal picked up the jury-rigged transmitter sitting on the console. "This it?"

Wash nodded. "Got it wired into the shuttle's data reader like you asked."

Mal pocketed the transmitter and looked at Zoe. "From what I hear, Ham Kennet's a straight-shooter. Deliver the goods intact, get paid what's agreed on. If luck's on our side it'll be just that simple."

Zoe raised her eyebrows at him ever-so-slightly. "Luck ever been on our side before, sir?"

Mal smiled ruefully. "Not as such, but I hear there's a first time for everything."

"Yes, sir."

He had a sense Zoe wanted to say more; he could always tell. "Got something to say?"

"Don't feel right, splitting our manpower like this. You sure you and Jayne can handle it just the two of you?"

He caught Wash throwing an eyeroll that the man never would have dared in front of Zoe a couple months ago.

"Have to," said Mal. He looked from Zoe to Wash and back again. The tension between them was thick enough to choke a horse. "There a problem I don't know about?"

"No, sir," said Zoe quickly.

Wash opened his mouth to say something and Zoe gave him a look a look that would raise a blister on boot leather. Something hard came over Wash's face at that look, but he shook it off and met Mal's gaze with a glassy smile. "No problem at all, Captain. Everything's peachier than a... thing with a lot of peaches in it."

"Good," said Mal. "Keep it that way."

* * *

  
Inara stared at herself in the mirror, checking to make sure the effect was complete. She'd borrowed some of Kaylee's clothes-- a pair of worn sandals and an ill-fitting floral cotton dress that was fraying at the hems and stained with engine grease. Her usually shining hair now hung limp and dull, knotted carelessly at the base of her neck, and her face was smudged with dirt rather than makeup. The varnish had been scrubbed from her finger and toenails and the expensive scented oils and perfumes washed from her skin. She practiced several expressions, posing carefully until the face in the mirror reflected poverty and desperation. Perfect.

She stepped out of her shuttle and found Mal, Zoe and Jayne at the other end of the catwalk, prepping the other shuttle. When she approached they all went silent and still, taking in the new Inara.

"Well, I'll be," said Zoe, the first to speak.

Inara smiled. "Do I look appropriately helpless, then?"

"I'll say," said Jayne, scratching his head. "They'll be on you like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat."

"Shut it, Jayne," snapped Mal. "You and Zoe go get the last of those storage bins stowed in the crawlspace."

Zoe gave Inara a smile and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she passed.

"Do I look all right?" she asked Mal when they'd gone.

"Well enough," he said gruffly. He reached in his pocket and fished out a small metal capsule about a third the size of grape. "Wash fixed this up for you. We'll be able to track you with it."

Inara took the transmitter, turning it over in her hand.

"'Fraid you'll have to swallow it," said Mal. "There's nowhere on your--uh--person we can be sure it'll be... safe."

The implications of that hung in the air between them. He was afraid for her, Inara knew, and trying desperately not to let it show. It actually helped, knowing that. Being brave for his sake make it easier for her ignore her own fears.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

She forced a smile. "Yes I do."

He shook his head. "The people on this ship are my responsibility. That's my burden to carry and in exchange I get the privilege of ordering everyone around. But you--Inara, I'll find another way to get Kaylee back."

She popped the transmitter in her mouth and swallowed it before he could say anything else. It tasted metallic and oily and burned all the way down her throat. "Okay, maybe I should have swallowed that with water."

She braced herself for the inevitable unseemly joke, a crude reference to her professional aptitude for swallowing things.

Mal didn't say anything, though, just reached into the shuttle, came out with a canteen and unscrewed the lid for her. Her knight in dingy, battered armor. The water tasted like plastic, but it soothed some of the burning in her throat.

"We won't be able to shadow you too closely, or else we'll scare 'em away. But we'll be able to find you, all the same."

"Mal," she said uncertainly. "Do you think Kaylee's... all right?"

"River says she is."

That surprised her, that he'd talked to River. It made her feel better, too, to know that Kaylee was still alive. She believed it, if River said it was so. She couldn't not believe in the things that River seemed to know.

Mal reached out, rather tentatively, and laid a hand on her shoulder, right at the curve of her neck. The gentle pressure was comforting, and Inara felt some of the tension she'd been carrying wash away. His thumb traced the hollow of her collarbone and she found herself leaning into him, as though gravity were pulling her toward the reassuring solidness of him.

No. It was too much, too close. She stiffened, breaking the spell.

Mal took his hand away and cleared his throat. "Kaylee's quick and clever. She'll know to keep her head down, not start any trouble or draw undue attention to herself."

He was trying to be reassuring, but to Inara it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

She forced another smile, and tried to look brave.

* * *

  
Kaylee had never gotten on much with other girls. Most of 'em just seemed so useless. Sure, she liked a fancy dress or a handsome young man as much as the next girl, but she also liked trace compression blocks, and well-stocked toolboxes, and thrilling adventures.

So it was just her luck that she'd been taken to another chamber in the ship and locked up with six other girls. As prisons went it wasn't too bad--in fact it was a whole heck of a lot nicer than her quarters on _Serenity_. There were eight bunks lined up along the walls and a table laid out with all kinds of delicious-looking foods just sitting there waiting to be eaten. Kaylee tried not to look at the food.

She'd already searched the whole damn place and concluded that there was no way out that she could figure. Spaceships were about as secure as anything and this one was especially tight--no loose panels or screws anywhere that she could find. And whoever'd fixed it up had done a bang up job of it, too, completely rewiring the hatch controls so they were inaccessible from inside the room. Not that she had any tools to work with anyway. If she had, well, it'd be a whole different story then, for sure.

"We have to figger a way out of here," she said.

The girls all stared at her blankly, as if she'd just suggested they take off their drawers and wear them on their heads.

"What are you doing?" said Kaylee, snatching a cookie out of the hands of a red-haired girl.

"Hey, that's mine!" said the girl.

"You can't eat their food!"

"Why not?"

"Because they're bad people and that's bad food. They're just tryin' to tempt you."

"Maybe I don't mind being tempted," said the girl, snatching back the cookie.

"How come you're all just standing around like we're at some kind of church social?" Kaylee said, looking around at the other girls. "They kidnapped us! Grabbed us off the street and dragged us here against our will."

"Miss Hope's not so bad," said one of the girls. "She's nice. Gave me this pretty dress to wear and all this fancy food. She promised to take care of us."

"She's a deceiver," said Kaylee. "A low-down dirty deceiver."

"She's nicer than my folks," said another girl. "Miss Hope says she's gonna make me into a lady, nice and proper."

"Yeah, I'll bet. Don't you know what that means?" said Kaylee. "What they're gonna do to us?"

"What?" said a scared-looking blond girl who couldn't have been a day over 16. "What does it mean?"

"It means they're gonna turn us into whores!"

"So what?" said the girl with the cookie. "My pa was gonna marry me off to Stump Magillicutty, I don't see how this is any worse. If I'm gonna share the bed of a man I don't like, at least I ought to have nice things."

"Didn't you hear me? _Whores!_" Kaylee's voice rose with frustration. "I'm not gonna let 'em make me into a whore."

The blond girl started crying and some of the others tried to shush her up. "Be quiet," one of the girls hissed. "You're gonna get in trouble like Wei-An."

Kaylee's eyes fell on a pretty dark-haired girl sitting on one of the bunks with her knees pulled up against her chest. She was rocking slowly back and forth in a way that made Kaylee think of River. There were angry, purple bruises up and down her arms and legs.

The hatch slid open and a guard stepped in. "What's going on in here? Who's making a ruckus?"

Cookie girl pointed an accusatory finger at Kaylee. "She did it. She was trying to scare us and talking about escapin'! She's fermentin' dissent!"

The guard grabbed Kaylee painfully by the arm. She thought about struggling, but one look at the nightstick gripped in the guard's other hand made her think better of it.

"Come on," he said as he pushed her roughly through the door. "Miss Hope's gonna teach you a lesson."

* * *

  
The shuttle rocked and swayed under Mal's not-so-expert guidance. It had been like this the whole flight back to Thermopolis.

Jayne had finally gone into the back and silently strapped himself in with the shuttle's safety harnesses. He sat there, jaw clenched, rigid as a corpse.

Inara gripped the seat back to steady herself against the turbulence. "Honestly, Mal, you should have let me fly."

"I'm not completely incompetent," he snapped. "I can pilot a gorram shuttle, it's not my fault the atmo's full of air pockets."

The shuttle was taken by a fresh bout of shaking and several sensors began flashing and beeping excitedly. "Okay, it's possible I'm the littlest bit incompetent," he said.

"Would it help if I got out and pushed?" Inara asked dryly.

"It might!"

"For God's sake, turn up the inertial reductors." She leaned across him to adjust the lever on the console just as the shuttle gave a great lurch. It caught her off-balance and she went tumbling into Mal's lap. He grabbed her to keep her from sliding to the floor, then gave her a sly grin.

"You did that on purpose," she said, primly standing herself upright again.

"Truth be told, I wouldn't know how," said Mal.

They managed to dock in Thermopolis without shaking themselves to pieces or crashing into anything important and Jayne set about readying the arsenal of weapons he'd brought along for the rescue mission.

Inara opened the hatch and stepped out into the city. She watched the people around her busily going about their business under the cold, gray sky and wished she'd thought to bring one of Kaylee's jackets.

"Ready?" said Mal, coming up behind her.

She hadn't heard him approach and started a little. Not a good beginning.

"Inara--"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. A little too quickly. Pull it together, you can do better than this.

Jayne was already locking up the shuttle behind Mal. Showtime.

"You won't see me," said Mal, "but I'll be right behind you all the same. You hear me? Right behind you. I'll get you out of there before--"

"I know," said Inara.

"You've got my word."

It meant everything to him, his word. It was one of the things she'd admired about him from the beginning. He wouldn't let her down. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name.

"Mal--" she said, and then stopped, afraid she'd betrayed too much, the way she'd said it. She laid her hand on his chest--

\--and pushed him gently away. "Go."

She smiled one last time and walked into the crowded city.


	4. Act Three

Zoe had never taken much to animals. Born and raised in the black on a series of cargo ships, she'd never had much experience of them growing up. They'd hauled livestock on _Serenity_ before, of course, and other than the smell and the noise it hadn't been so bad, but then the captain had been around all those times to see to things, with all the experience of his rancher upbringing.

Now, Zoe watched in dismay as Budge Zabriskie's men loaded the "livestock" into _Serenity_'s hold. Wash, Simon and Book watched with her, their expressions pretty much matching the revulsion she felt. River's expression, on the other hand, was something closer to childlike fascination.

Budge noticed their looks and grinned. "Smell bad enough to stink a dog off a gut wagon, don't they?" He was a great whale of a man, all red-faced and sweating even though it was a cold day and he hadn't lifted a finger to exert himself. "Some folk call 'em stink bears."

Stink was right. They reeked like skunks and already the smell was making Zoe's eyes water.

"But they're wolverines," said Wash.

"Ayuh," said Budge cheerfully.

"But... wolverines," Wash repeated, gesturing helplessly at the wooden crates.

"Someone's actually going to breed wolverines?" said Simon.

"Fur's about as warm and waterproof as you could ask for," said Budge. "Leastways, that's what I hear. Wouldn't wanna get close enough to check, myself."

"No," said Shepherd Book. "I don't imagine you would."

Each of the two dozen wooden crates rattled and bounced as if it contained a tiny tornado. A terrible cacophony of snarling and growling and shaking and clawing emanated from the boxes, filling the cargo bay with a deafening racket.

"Those crates are secure, right?" said Simon. "They're not going to come open or anything?"

"Safe as houses," Budge assured them. He thrust a ledger book at Zoe. "Sign here."

"They smell really bad," said Wash after Budge and his men had gone. "I mean really bad. Not just a little bad, like a leaky septic tank or a bloated corpse, but _really_ bad."

"We get it," said Zoe irritably. "They smell."

Wash opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped it shut and stalked over to the airlock controls.

"River, don't get too close," said Simon. The girl was sitting on the floor in front of one of one of the crates, her head tilted sideways, studying the vicious creature inside.

"They're so loud," she said.

"They are that," Simon agreed.

"All instincts and urges and desires. They _need_. It drowns out everything else, so loud it's quiet." She looked strangely content in the midst of all the stink and noise.

Zoe bent down for a closer look at the animals. "Don't like their eyes. All red and beady with those slanty pupils. It's not right."

"Like the burning embers of Hell," said Simon.

"I don't know," said Book. "There's a certain beauty to them. They might even be considered cute, if you overlook the teeth. Like tiny little bears."

"Oh, yeah," said Wash. "They're cute, fluffy balls of demonic fury. I'm sure if you let one of 'em out it'd just curl up in your lap, sweet as anything, and gnaw quietly on your thighbone." He shot Zoe one last unhappy look before heading up to the bridge.

* * *

  
Jayne squinted up at the curdled sky and tried not to think about Kaylee and how long it'd been since she got snatched. He and Mal had been following Inara around for a couple hours now, keeping a goodly distance between them, but not letting her get out of eyeball range. He had several guns strapped on under his jacket and Vera hidden in a duffel on his back. A promiscuous display of firearms in the middle of town was liable to attract attention and Vera did tend to turn heads.

He was itching to shoot someone, or to hit someone, but he was starting to wonder if this whole plan was going to work at all. Those slavers had already gotten themselves one girl today, maybe they'd lay low for a while before striking again. Or maybe they'd met their quota with Kaylee and were already halfway across the quadrant by now. He figured there was a pretty good chance they'd treat her okay for the first little while--didn't like to think about what came after that, though.

Jayne was fonder of Kaylee than he'd willingly own up to. The girl kinda reminded him of a dog his ma'd had around the house. Damned annoying yappy little thing, but sometimes it was nice just to have someone around who was actually glad to see him.

Inara had paused in front of a shop window and was pretending to look at the bent pots and pans displayed there. She looked different with the paint all scrubbed off her face, wearing one of Kaylee's short little dresses. Younger and... prettier somehow. More like a girl Jayne might have had a chance with.

He spat on the ground, ignoring the dirty look from the shopkeeper whose doorstep he'd sullied. "She's got real nice legs, don't she?"

"What?" said Mal distractedly.

"'Nara. She's got a fine pair a legs."

Mal scowled at him. "Quit staring at her legs."

"We're supposed to be watching her, ain't we? I mean, isn't that the whole damn point?"

"That what you were looking at when Kaylee got snatched? A fine pair of legs?"

Some of the fire went out of Jayne's belly. He wanted to say something, but didn't know exactly what. "Listen, Mal, about that... Kaylee, she's... well..." He rubbed the back of his head while he struggled with the words. "I just... I feel real bad, is all. You don't even know."

For the first time all day Mal looked at Jayne like he wasn't something that needed to be scraped off his boot. "I got a pretty good idea."

Jayne checked the spot where Inara had been just a second ago and felt himself go cold. "Where'd she go?"

Mal snapped back to attention. "What?"

Jayne studied the display on the data reader. "She's heading away from us. North-northeast about 200 meters. " She should have been plainly visible if the transmitter was reading right.

"She ain't there, Jayne."

"She is, says so right on the thing." Mal grabbed it away from him, as if he could somehow read it better himself.

Jayne scanned the street with his keen sniper's eyes. The light was starting to fall out of the day and it was a busy area, but not so crowded they shouldn't have been able to spot her pretty easy. He caught a glimpse of a bright green rain barrel being carried by two men, just before it turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.

"She changed direction," said Mal. "West-southwest, 250 meters."

"Come on," said Jayne, pushing his way into the crowd. "I know where she went."

* * *

  
Wash stared out the cockpit window, lost in the black. Not the blackness of space--he knew precisely where _Serenity_ was and where she was headed--but the blackness that had crawled up inside of him and nested there.

He was mad. And he was pretty sure it was Zoe he was mad at, although there was a small part of him that suspected he was maybe mad at himself a little bit, too. Thing was, he couldn't rightly recall what exactly he was mad about anymore. Zoe'd done something, or said something, or maybe it was something she hadn't said or done. Didn't matter, because a quiet had fallen between them, and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

Zoe had always been on the quiet side. Not like him--he was always trying to fill up all the silences around him with words. Zoe was a woman of actions, not words; she spoke to him with the playful swish of her hips, the smiles that lingered at the corner of her mouth, the way her eyes would follow him around a room.

Not anymore. She was cold and rigid around him now, and her eyes didn't follow him anywhere. It was a hurtful kind of quiet that lay between them and it... well, it hurt. Honestly, he was tired of being mad. He wished he knew how to go back and undo it.

"Wash." Zoe's voice behind him nearly startled him out of his chair.

He recovered his composure and turned to look at her, eyebrows raised slightly.

"How long 'til we hit Despina?" She spoke with the tone of grim detachment she'd fallen to using with him lately whenever ship's business forced them to interact.

He checked the console. "One hour and twenty-three minutes."

"I want you wearing a sidearm when we meet Kennet."

"Okay. Sure." He'd never heard of wolverine smugglers being particularly cutthroat or dangerous before, but then again he'd never actually heard of wolverine smugglers before. And with Mal and Jayne both gone after Kaylee...

Zoe turned to go, her business with him apparently concluded.

"Zoe."

She paused in the hatchway, but didn't turn around.

He wanted to go to her and put his arms around her, hold her tight and bury his face in her hair. But he knew instinctively that if he tried, she'd pull away, and he wouldn't be able to bear that.

"You--uh--you think they're gonna be able to get Kaylee back?" he said. Because that was the other thing that had been gnawing at him. The thought of what might happen to Kaylee; what might have already happened.

Zoe turned to look at him, and something in her face softened just a little. "Hope so."

It was the best conversation they'd had in days. Wash watched her walk away down the foredeck passage, missing the playful sway of her hips so badly it hurt.

* * *

  
Kaylee sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair in an empty storage cabin, flanked by two of Hope's goons. She was pretty sure that if it'd been the captain in her place, or Zoe or Jayne, they'd already have some sort of amazing escape plan worked out. She wasn't them, though. She was just Kaylee, and she was scared.

For the first little while she'd been staring at the floor, at a funny-looking spot near her feet. Kinda reddish. Like blood, she'd realized. After that she kept her eyes off the floor.

Eventually the hatch slid open and Hope came in. She was carrying a long cardboard box wrapped in a pink satin bow, which she set down on a stool by the door.

"Kaylee, Kaylee, Kaylee," she said, shaking her head sadly. "I'm just so disappointed, sweetie. A genteel and quiet deportment is the characteristic of a well-bred person, you know, and we just can't have you rousing rabble among the girls."

"Please," said Kaylee. "Please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I just want to go home. I'm not the kind of girl you want."

"You know what I think?" said Hope. "I think you'd look just lovely with your hair up. It'd show off your neck to such pretty effect. You ever wear your hair up?"

Kaylee didn't say anything.

"No?" Hope continued as if Kaylee had answered. "Well, it's something to think about. I've got very high hopes for you. You're a beautiful, bright girl with her whole life ahead of her and I simply won't tolerate sulking among my girls. But don't worry, I'm not ready to give up on you, yet."

Hope fetched the box and set it down on Kaylee's lap. "For you," she said. "Go on, open it."

Kaylee's hands shook as she untied the bow. Inside the box was an aquamarine brocade dress. It was like something Inara would wear, finer by far than anything Kaylee had ever owned, nor even hoped to.

"I'll bet pink is probably your favorite color," said Hope, taking the dress out of the box and holding it up so Kaylee could admire it. "But I confess I've been dying to see you in blue. Don't you want to try it on?"

Kaylee bit her lip and shook her head.

"Now, Kaylee, a lady always accepts gifts with grace and civility."

"I won't do it," said Kaylee. Her heart was pounding fair to burst, but she managed to muster her courage anyway. "I don't want your stupid presents! You can't just dress me up in fancy clothes and make me into one of your doxies."

Hope sighed and placed the dress neatly back in the box. "This is very unfortunate. I'm afraid you're going to have a bumpy road ahead, dear, if you can't see your way to being more cooperative."

She nodded at the guards, who grabbed Kaylee's arms, forced them behind her back and tied them to the chair behind her. Kaylee thought about the bruises on Wei-An and began, very quietly, to panic.

"If you only gave me a chance, you'd find that I'm a very generous woman," said Hope. "But I don't like to be crossed."

She smiled a wrong kind of smile that filled Kaylee's heart with icy fear.

One of the guards backhanded Kaylee across the face. The shock of it was almost greater than the pain, at first. Kaylee'd never been hit before--not for real like this. She could taste blood in her mouth.

"There are rules, after all, and they must be followed," said Hope.

The guard raised his nightstick and hit Kaylee again, on the arm this time, and she cried out. She hadn't meant to cry out, but when the pain hit her she couldn't help it.

"As long as my girls keep me happy, I keep them happy. Isn't that a nice little system? It works very well. But right now, I'm not happy."

This time the nightstick hit Kaylee full in the gut. She couldn't even double over with her arms tied behind her and the pain was so bad she thought she might pass out. She wished she'd pass out.

It hurt worse than the time she'd been shot, but maybe that was because she couldn't really remember anything about getting shot. She remembered the pain after, but that had been a dull, throbbing sort of pain, not a sharp, dizzying pain like this. Thinking about that made her think of Simon, and how he'd take care of her if he was here, but he wasn't here and she'd probably never see him again, and she started to really cry then.

She didn't want to cry, she wanted to be strong like the captain would want her to be, but she couldn't help it. She was just Kaylee and she was scared and all alone.

* * *

  
It was coming on towards evening and the light was failing as Mal quickened his steps, trying to keep up with the elusive rain barrel and its two bearers. They'd turned another corner and momentarily slipped out of his sights, though. Not good, because they were right near the docks, now, which meant--

"Signal's gone," said Jayne, who was watching the data reader again. "Just plumb disappeared."

They tore around the corner and found themselves staring down a long line of ships parked at the Dunmire Docks. The facilities here were nicer than the Red Key Docks where they usually set down _Serenity_\--and much larger. Nearly two dozen ships in just this one slip alone and Inara could be on any one of them.

"Musta took her on one of them ships," said Jayne. "Transmitter can't send a signal through another ship's hull."

"I know that," Mal snapped. If anything happened to Inara--anything at all--he didn't think he'd be able to live with it. Bad enough Kaylee was in trouble, but he'd gotten Inara into this mess. She'd put herself on the line, trusting him to get her out of this, and by God, he wasn't going to let her down.

Mal turned his attention to the four ships closest to where the signal had disappeared, figuring she was most likely to be on one of those. The first was a small Wren Class container ship. Not a likely place to stash a half dozen girls. Beside it was an old Zhejiang surveyor, which was maybe a possibility, and next to that was a mid-sized private transport that--

He noticed the name of the ship and fought off a cold shiver. It was the _Deuce of Hearts_.

_I'll be damned_. They'd called her a witch back on Jiangyin, but he hadn't really believed it. Not really.

"They're on that one," said Mal, pointing.

"How d'you know?"

"Because I do."

Jayne gave him a funny look but didn't question. "Alright."

Mal studied the situation. The _Deuce_ was bigger than _Serenity_\--probably carried a crew of at least eight or ten, plus room for maybe another dozen in the passenger dorms. She was closed up nice and tight, the forward hatch guarded on the outside by two mercenary-looking types. You had to figure there were at least six, maybe even as many as a dozen men in there, most of them likely armed. Versus him and Jayne. Yeah, this was going be interesting.

"So, let's have it," said Jayne.

"What?"

"Your cunning strategy. You got a cunning strategy, ain't ya?"

"Sure I do," said Mal, trying to sound like he meant it.

"What is it?"

"Gimme a minute, I ain't thought of it, yet."

Mal looked around, sizing up the landscape of the situation, waiting for inspiration to strike. And then it did.

* * *

  
Shepherd Book stepped out into the cargo bay and winced as the stink of the wolverines hit him full in the face. They truly did smell awful. Still, he found something fascinating about them. There was beauty to be found in all the beasts of the field, if you only looked hard enough. In the case of Jayne Cobb, he was still looking, but he was confident it was there to be found, if only a man were patient enough.

Zoe was over at the ammo lockers with her back to him, loading cartridges into the lever-action rifle she carried. She'd been somewhat edgy and out of sorts of late, and Book considered turning around and heading back into the passenger dorm, leaving her to her peace. But though he didn't like to be intrusive, neither was it his way to walk away from a soul in pain if there was something he could offer in the way of help.

So he approached her, making sure to let his footfalls be heard, even over the din of the wolverines rattling and snarling in their cages. "Anticipating trouble?"

"Always," said Zoe. "Then I get to be pleasantly surprised if it don't come around."

"Expect the worst but hope for the best?"

"Something like that."

Book leaned against one of the lockers. "Awfully quiet on the ship with the others away."

Zoe cocked her head in the direction of the wolverines. "Call this quiet, do you?"

"Perhaps quiet wasn't the best word choice. Lonely, more like."

She nodded. "_Serenity_ does seem emptier without Kaylee about to brighten the place up. But don't you worry, the captain'll have her back here before you know it."

"I have no doubt of that," said Book. He hesitated, wondering if perhaps he should just leave well enough alone. Something told him Zoe wasn't likely to thank him for the intrusion.

She glanced over at him. "You got something to say, Preacher?"

Taking that as a sign, Book resolved to broach the subject. "I can't pretend not to have noticed the troubles you and Wash have been having, lately."

She froze, hand still poised over the box of cartridges. "That so?"

He pressed on, despite the hostility he read in her face. "A very wise man once told me that success in marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person. Of course, I can't claim first-hand knowledge myself, or pretend to understand what it's like--"

"No, you can't," said Zoe coldly.

Book hadn't expected her to be particularly receptive to his counsel, but he suspected perhaps he should have followed his first instinct and left well enough alone. But before he could form an apology they were interrupted by the sound of someone bouncing down the steps from the catwalk above. Book glanced up and saw Wash making his way toward them. When he looked back at Zoe the anger had fled from her face, replaced a mask of cool impassivity.

"I'm not sure I did this right," said Wash, gesturing helplessly at the holster at his hip.

Zoe wordlessly loosened the strap on Wash's gun belt and yanked it down so that the rig hung lower on his hip. Book discretely wandered over to the wolverine cages, giving the couple some space.

"So, uh, we'll be at the drop-off in twenty minutes," he heard Wash say. "Looks like we might just pull this job off without any hitches."

"You really think it's a good idea to be tempting fate right now?" said Zoe.

Book moved farther away from them, around to the far side of the wolverines.

He stopped, his attention caught by the one crate that wasn't vibrating and trembling with the fury of the beast within. The nails had pulled out in one corner and the lid gapped just wide enough for a small animal to escape.

"Excuse me," he called out to Zoe and Wash. "I think we may have a small problem."

* * *

  
Inara didn't resist when she was manhandled by the two guards and thrust into a compartment on the ship with the other girls. She was enraged on the inside, of course, but she kept her expression studiously meek and mild. The hatch slammed shut behind her and she looked around at the faces of the other prisoners. Six girls, but none of them Kaylee.

She felt a momentary jolt of fear. What if she'd been kidnapped by different slavers altogether? Or what if they'd already sent Kaylee off-world and out of reach?

"Don't be scared," said one of the girls. "They won't hurt you none, long as you behave."

"What are they going to do with us?" asked Inara.

Several of the girls exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Miss Hope's going to make us into fancy ladies," said one.

"Who's Miss Hope?"

"She's our new mama, and she's going to take care of us," said a red-headed girl confidently.

Inara's eyes fell on a girl huddled on one of the bunks in the room, her skin livid with bruises. _Take care of us like that, you mean_.

Inara walked around the cell, pausing by the buffet table, eyes wide. "I've never seen so much food before."

"It's all for us, if you can imagine!"

"Are there other girls here? Besides us, I mean?"

"Nope, just us, I think. Except for that troublemaker."

"Troublemaker?"

"She showed up this morning, started right off making a fuss. Miss Hope's having a talk with her now, but I guess she'll be back."

So Kaylee was here. And possibly in danger, from the sound of it. Inara fervently hoped that wherever Mal was, he was hurrying. In the meantime, perhaps there was something she could do to grease the wheels a little bit.

"How many guards are there outside the door?" asked Inara.

"Just the one, usually," said the red-haired girl. "Why?"

Inara smiled. This was going to be even easier than she thought.

* * *

  
River walked up the stairs slowly, moving to a secret rhythms that pulsed in her blood. Bare feet on metal, fingers trailing along the cold rail. Counting every step as she went. Two. Six. Twelve.

_Twelve pairs hanging high, twelve knights riding by_.

She was was being pulled by... something. A sense of overwhelming, desperate hunger. Not hers, though.

Around the corner and into the galley she crept. Quiet as mouse--don't scare it. She was big for a mouse, but quiet. Invisible, too. Eyes slid right over her, seeing only what they cared to see. She was just an echo, after all, not a real girl.

Thirty-eight teeth and twenty retractable claws. Scrabbling and tearing and biting to get into a packet of dried apricots. It could smell the food, couldn't get at it. Frustrating. Meat was what it wanted, but there was no meat here. Not for eating, anyway.

River thought it was beautiful, all teeth and claws and muscle. Dangerous and terrible and graceful. And yet so small and vulnerable. Scared, too. _Like me_. Strange place, strange smells. Everything confusing.

The voice whispered in her head, the one that spoke in facts she almost remembered learning once. _The wolverine drives other animals away from its food by baring its teeth, raising the hair on its back, sticking up its bushy tail, and making a low growl_.

Just like it was doing now. River smiled (baring her teeth) and growled back.

* * *

  
Jayne watched surreptitiously as Mal approached the two guards outside the _Deuce_ carrying a large box of take-out containers in his off hand. They were all empty containers, of course--Mal and Jayne had fished them out of a dumpster--but you couldn't hardly tell just by looking. As plans went, Jayne wasn't overly impressed.

"This the boat ordered the Eight Treasure Duckling special?" said Mal, all friendly-like.

One of the guards stepped forward warily to talk to Mal, his hand hovering near the sidearm at his hip.

Once Jayne judged they were sufficiently distracted by Mal's yammering dumbass routine, he silently slipped into position behind them.

"So you're saying this ain't Slip E521?" said Mal. "Damn, I really am turned around. Either of you fellows kind enough to point me the right way?"

As the guard closest to Mal reached out an arm to point, Mal sucker punched the guy in the face. Before the other man could react, Jayne had knocked him over the back of the head with Vera's stock. He slumped to the ground, out cold, followed a few seconds later by Mal's man.

"That was fun," said Jayne as they dragged the guards out of sight behind the ship and tied them up with their own belts. "What comes next?"

"Yeah, um, it's not presently coming to mind."

"You ain't got a next step, do ya?"

"Not as such, no."

"Well, ain't that grand."

"Hang on. Okay, here it is. We rush in... and shoot at anyone that stands between us and the girls."

"Use the element of surprise to our advantage."

"Something like that." Mal drew his old service pistol. "Ready?"

Jayne grunted his assent.

Mal swiped the key card they'd pulled off one of the guards through the fancy card reader. The little light on the display turned from red to green and the lock on the hatch clicked. Mal pulled the hatch open and they plunged inside--

Right into the barrels of three guns that were being pointed at them by three more guards, waiting just inside the ship's hold.

"They don't exactly look surprised, do they?" said Mal, raising his hands up into the air.

"Great strategy," hissed Jayne. "Real cunning." 


	5. Act Four

_This is not scary_, Wash told himself as he warily ascended the stairs to the foredeck passage. Reavers were scary. Alliance cruisers were scary. That fanged cartoon octopus in the fruity oaty bar commercial--_that_ was scary. Fuzzy, raccoon-sized mammals were not scary.

Except they really were. Especially when there was one loose on the ship and it was entirely possible that the thing could jump out at him any second with all those teeth and claws and those beady red eyes.

A wolverine could take down a moose if it had a mind to. A moose! Wash had been doing some reading on the cortex since they'd brought the animals on board. Turned out the reason it was illegal to import them was because they pretty much devoured all the natural ecology in any environment they were transplanted to. Lovely critters.

And to make matters worse they were exactly twelve--make that eleven--minutes from the drop-off. Zoe had everyone on board searching the ship from top to bottom, but with half the crew gone and God knows how many hiding places on _Serenity_ that something that size could squeeze into, Wash was not feeling especially optimistic.

"Grrrrrr."

Wash froze. Okay, that hadn't actually sounded like an animal growl. It had sounded more like--

River?

He stepped into the galley and found the girl crouched on the floor, staring at something in the pantry.

Then he heard another growl, and this one definitely came from an animal.

Wash edged closer and saw the ravenous slavering creature that was busily tearing through what was left of their food rations.

"River," said Wash, moving slowly toward her. "Let's move away from the tiny ferocious monster, okay?"

"It's hungry," she said.

"Yes, I'm sure it is. We don't want it to eat you, though." He reached down and pulled her away from the wolverine. Then he shut the hatch to the foredeck and dragged River out into the aft passage. He shut that hatch too, trapping the wolverine in the galley.

He pushed the comm button. "The demented hell beast is in the kitchen," he announced to the ship at large.

About 45 seconds later, Zoe was beside him, peering in the hatch window. "Where is it?"

She was all business now, the unflappable warrior women who'd first caught his eye. It was, Wash had to admit, incredibly hot.

"Food pantry," he said, trying to focus on the current emergency rather than his wife's attractively commanding presence. "What'll we do now?"

Zoe drew her rifle and levered a round into the chamber. "Only one thing to do."

"You don't think Kennet will mind if we kill one of his animals?"

She cocked her eyebrows at him. "You want to be the one to get it back in that crate?"

Wash thought about the teeth and the claws and the slavering. "Killing it is."

"_No!_" wailed River.

"Wait!" called Simon, hurrying up the stairs from the infirmary. He had a small medicine vial and hypodermic auto-injector in his hands.

"Doc, you really don't want to get close enough to dope that thing," said Zoe.

"It's just scared," said River, on the verge of tears. "It's not it's fault, it didn't ask to be made this way."

"It's all right, _mèi mei_," said Simon, loading the hypo. He looked back at Zoe. "If we don't deliver all twenty-four animals alive, we don't get all our money, right?"

Zoe nodded. "Best case scenario."

"And the worst?"

"Threats, violence, gunplay. The usual."

"I don't have to get close," said Simon, holding the hypo like a dart. "I just have to hit the bullseye."

Zoe shrugged. "Worth a shot, I guess."

Simon looked at River. "Stay here, okay? Keep the doors closed behind us and don't try to come in. Promise?"

River nodded. "Don't kill it."

"Not if we can help it."

They slid the hatch open quietly. Simon, Zoe and Wash slipped into the galley and crept toward the wolverine. It had given up on the food pantry and was now doing unspeakable things to various kitchen utensils.

"I'm feeling violated for the sake of the can opener," said Wash uncomfortably.

Simon raised the hypo and aimed it at the wolverine.

Zoe leaned over beside him for a better look. "You're good at darts, right, Doc?"

"Sure," said Simon, not actually sounding particularly sure. "I played when I was in medacad."

"And you were good?" said Zoe.

"I never played in any tournaments or anything, but I won a few free beers off my friends."

"I'm not overflowing with the confidence here," said Zoe.

"Do you mind?" said Simon. "I'm trying to concentrate. Unless you'd rather do it yourself."

Zoe held up her hands and backed away.

Simon raised the hypo, aimed, and threw. The needle struck the wolverine right in its furry backside and stuck there. The surprise attack and the indignity of the needle sticking out of its haunch became too much for the beast and it went into a kind of frenzy, whipping around in circles, trying to bite at the offending hypo.

"And now you've made it angry," said Wash. "Well played."

"Like it wasn't angry before," said Simon.

The wolverine finally succeeded in removing the needle from its haunch and turned its red beady eyes on the three humans.

"Holy mother of crap!" yelped Wash as the snarling whirlwind of teeth and fur charged straight for him, its sharp claws skittering for traction on the deck.

Wash fumbled with the gun at his side, trying to get it out of the holster and knowing he wasn't going to be fast enough.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zoe launch herself into the dining table, knocking it onto its side and sending it flying straight into him. It knocked him off his feet and sent him crashing into the counter, but the table made a serviceable barrier between him and the angry wolverine.

Startled and confused by the noise and the falling table, the wolverine darted right, then left, then made straight for Zoe. She stood her ground and calmly raised her gun.

But before she got a round off the wolverine stopped dead in its tracks and dropped to the floor, eyes rolling back in its head. It lay there, snarling quietly to itself and twitching like a hophead tweaked on drops.

Wash breathed a sigh of relief and sank back onto the deck.

"Wash, baby, are you okay?" Zoe was at his side, holding his hand, her luminous eyes wide with worry.

This was an opportunity, Wash decided, that should be milked for all it was worth. He rubbed his leg where the table had hit him and moaned pitifully. "Ow, my leg."

Zoe narrowed her eyes at him. "You're fine, you big baby."

"You threw a table at me!"

"I was trying to save you."

"By throwing a table at me?"

"It worked, didn't it?" She smiled at him, and suddenly everything in the world felt like it was okay again.

He thought about kissing her, decided he was going to do it, and then the alarm warning him of the approach to Despina went off. Figures.

"That would be for me," he said, reluctantly and somewhat painfully pulling himself to his feet. "Pilot-type stuff to do."

He looked back at Zoe one more time, basking in the glorious radiance of her smile just a little bit more before limping to the bridge.

* * *

  
Inara smiled reassuringly at the red-haired girl named Leah. It hadn't actually taken much persuasion to convince the girls to go along with her plan. Apparently Kaylee had already gotten some of them pretty well worked up earlier, and it'd taken only minimal use of Inara's wiles to convince the others to follow her. Leah had been the most resistant initially, but Inara had finally enlisted her enthusiastic participation by giving her a starring role in the scheme.

At Inara's signal Leah closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let loose an ear-piercing scream. Then she dropped to floor and huddled in a ball, clutching her stomach. The other girls all backed away from her, fanning out around the perimeter of the room.

"What the hell's going on?" demanded the guard who threw open the hatch.

"I think she's sick or something," said the blond girl named Chloe.

The guard bent over Leah, who continued to writhe and moan loudly. While his attention was focused on the girl's antics, Inara deftly slipped the nightstick from his belt and cracked him over the back of the head with it.

Leah rolled herself out of the way just before the man crashed to the floor.

"I do alright?" she asked, standing up and brushing herself off.

"Perfect." Inara swiped the keycard from the guard's belt and unlocked the hatch. She threw a look over her shoulder at the girls. "Everyone ready to get out of here?"

They nodded back at her, looking scared, but determined.

* * *

  
"Drop your weapons," said the biggest of the goons leveling guns on Mal and Jayne. Two more men came into the hold behind him and spread out to cover them.

Mal's mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but when there's five guns trained on you there's not really a whole lot to be done about it.

"I said, drop 'em!" the number one goon barked.

Mal complied. The fellow struck him as being on the nervous side. Which might be good, because maybe there was a better chance they could get out of this if they were dealing with unseasoned muscle, but might be real bad if it meant the guy was gonna get twitchy and shoot them on accident before they had a chance to make their daring escape.

"I don't like to drop Vera," said Jayne carefully. "How 'bout if I just lower her slowly to the ground so's her scope don't get bent?"

"You think I'm playing around?" said the guard, starting to appear concerningly agitated.

"Jayne," hissed Mal. "Just drop the damn thing like the nice gentleman said."

"Nuh uh. They'll have to kill me 'fore I let Vera come to any harm by my own hand."

"That can be arranged," snarled the goon, though Mal was fairly certain the fellow had never actually shot anyone with the gun he was holding in increasingly shaky hands. He was probably just some street thug spent most of his time pushing around scared girls and never even had to use his gun before. The rest of the guards didn't look much better, either. Which meant he and Jayne could probably take 'em in a fair fight.

If only they could cook up some kind of distraction...

A shiny red apple fell out of the air and bounced off the deck just behind goon number one. Followed immediately by a veritable hailstorm of apples that rained down on the guards from the platform above.

"What the hell?" The guards momentarily let their attention waver from Jayne and Mal as they tried to duck away from the fruit projectiles.

_Huh_, thought Mal as he grabbed his gun and rolled for cover. _That was easy_.

* * *

  
Inara grabbed another apple and pitched it as hard and as far as she could from behind the cover of a supply crate. So far the guards hadn't seemed inclined to use their pistols against the girls. Presumably they'd been rather severely warned against damaging the merchandise.

Some of the girls had truly impressive throwing arms, she observed proudly, as an apple bounced off the head of a guard trying futilely to aim his gun at Mal.

Below them, Mal and Jayne were doing a pretty fair job of fighting off the guards on the floor of the cargo bay. Inara grabbed another apple and winced as the percussion of gunfire echoed through the hold.

A girl screamed to her left and Inara spun around. One of the guards had managed to get up the stairs and grab Chloe, and was dragging her back down into the hold. Inara charged after him, swinging the nightstick with all her strength and connecting with the back of his head with an arm-numbing crack. She made a grab for Chloe as the man holding her started to tumble down the stairs but the force of his fall dragged all three of them down in a jumbled heap at the foot of the stairs.

Inara sucked a painful breath into her lungs and pushed herself to her feet, nightstick still clutched in her fist. Before she'd even fully regained her balance, though, another guard had grabbed her from behind. He shoved her, hard, and she went careening into a stack of storage crates, bounced off of them and landed painfully on her shoulder.

The world went a brilliant white, and then dark, before her vision slowly began to telescope back to some semblance of normal. Inara rolled onto her back, gasping at the pain it caused, just in time to see a guard standing above her, nightstick raised. She cried out and tried to scramble away, but her left arm was all but useless and the pain screaming in her shoulder was threatening to black her out again.

There was another blast of gunfire, closer than the others, and a spot of bright red blossomed on the front of the man's shirt. The nightstick fell uselessly from his hand and he slumped to the floor.

Inara sagged back against the deck and tried not to pass out.

* * *

  
"_Inara!_" Mal rushed to her side, kicking aside the body of the gunshot guard.

"I'm okay," she said, squeezing his hand. She wasn't exactly okay, though. Just from what he could see she'd taken a good whack to the head and maybe broken a few ribs, too, the way she was favoring her left side. He cursed himself once again for letting her get involved in this mess.

Behind him, the fight had pretty much petered out, and Mal was content to leave it to Jayne to mop up while he saw to Inara.

"Apples?" he said, carefully helping her to sit up. "You had a bunch of girls attack armed men with apples?"

Inara smiled despite the pain she was obviously feeling. "It's what we had to hand."

There was no makeup on her face to enhance or mask her expression, no rich fabrics calculated to attract the eye, no fancy scents to cloud his senses. It was just Inara now, looking up at him, as natural and as lovely as Mal had ever seen her. Something stirred within him, and he became acutely aware of the nearness of her. Their faces were so close he could feel the soft touch of her breath on his mouth, count the dark lashes around her eyes--

Inara's face clouded and she tightened her grip on his arm. "Mal, you have to find Kaylee."

"She wasn't with you?"

"They took her to another part of the ship. I think they might be hurting her." She made a valiant but foolish attempt to get up.

Mal put a gentle but restraining hand on her waist, guiding her back to a sitting position. "I'll find her." He pressed a pistol he'd lifted off one of the guards into the hand of her good arm. "Stay here, don't try to move."

Jayne had been busy tying up the guards who were still breathing, with the assistance of some of the more level-headed girls. Seemed like he'd picked himself up something of a fan club, the way the girls were following him about and making moony-eyes at him.

Mal hauled the most coherent-looking guard to his feet and threw him up against the bulkhead. "Where's the other girl?" he demanded. "The one you took this morning?" He didn't have the time nor the inclination to go searching the whole damn ship for Kaylee.

The man glared sullenly at him, refusing to talk. He felt Jayne step up beside him.

Mal raised his gun and pressed the muzzle against the man's nose. "I never like killing a man--"

"I do," Jayne piped up, smiling broadly and waggling the big damn knife in his hand.

"--but he does," said Mal, jerking his head toward Jayne. "And he's got lots of interestin' ways of doing it, too."

"I know where she is," said a small voice behind them.

Mal threw a look over his shoulder. One of the girls had come forward--a pretty, dark-haired thing with a big ol' shiner and nasty-looking bruises down her arms and legs. He shoved the guard at Jayne and turned to face the girl. "They do that to you?"

She nodded. "Miss Hope and two of her men."

"That what they're doing to my friend Kaylee?"

Another nod.

"What's your name, darlin'?"

"Wei-An."

"Wei-An, you think you could show us where they took Kaylee?"

"Yes. It's at the top of the ship."

"Okay, then, let's go. Jayne--"

The merc was holding his knife to the guard's throat but at a quick shake of Mal's head settled for punching him with the haft instead. Much as Mal would have liked to see the fellow laid open from belly to breakfast for what they'd done, he didn't much like the idea of Jayne's little teenage fanclub watching it.

They followed the girl into the bowels of the _Deuce_, up two flights of steps and across a catwalk into the ship's loft area. Mal and Jayne kept a careful eye out, but they didn't run into any more company along the way. Even the bridge was empty.

"In there," she said, pointing to a hatch at the end of the passage.

"Good girl," said Mal. "Now you skedaddle back down to the hold and keep the other girls out of trouble."

"Are you gonna kill them?" she asked staring at the closed hatch.

Mal looked at her levelly. "Might do."

A hint of a smile quirked the corner of her mouth. "Good." She turned and ran off back down the steps.

"Long way away from the rest of the ship up here," said Jayne. "They probably never even heard the tussle down below."

"Maybe."

They positioned themselves on either side of the hatch and Mal knocked loudly with the butt of his gun. The hatch slid open and before the man who'd opened it knew what was happening, Jayne had yanked him out into the passage and heaved him headfirst into the bulkhead.

The other guard in the room was just starting to move toward the hatch, reaching for a sidearm that was still holstered when Mal stepped into the room, gun leveled. "I wouldn't," he said sharply, and the guard's hand froze. "Hands up on your head, if you don't mind."

There was a woman standing beside him, plump and motherly-looking, though she had a hard cast to her mouth. Beyond them he could see Kaylee, sitting in a chair with her hands pulled behind her, head slumped down on her chest. Her hair was hanging down over most of her face, but where the skin of her arms and legs showed it was marked by contusions that hadn't yet had a chance to darken. Mal felt his finger tighten on the trigger.

"Jayne," he said through gritted teeth. "Relieve our friend of his weapons."

Jayne started forward and then hesitated, his eyes falling on Kaylee. "Mal--"

"I know."

Jayne disarmed the guard with brisk efficiency and then hauled back and pistol-whipped him with his own gun. The man crashed limply to the deck, but Jayne hauled him up by his collar so he could hit him some more. Mal couldn't much blame him. Seeing what they'd done to Kaylee made him want to join in, but he had himself other things needed seeing to at the moment.

He turned his attention to the woman. "You'd be Hope, I'm guessing."

"I am. " She thrust her chin in the air, like she was accepting some kind of award instead of facing down a man aiming a pistol at her guts. "I take it you're here for one of my girls."

"My girl." He inclined his head in Kaylee's direction. "That one there, matter of fact."

"So take her. She's a nuisance anyway."

"She is that. Still, I'm not well pleased with the condition you're returning her in. There's gonna have to be a reckoning, you understand."

She cast an uneasy look at Jayne--still pounding her man into meatloaf--and backed up a step, clasping her hands nervously across her bosom. "Surely we can come to some sort of financial arrangement."

Almost too late, Mal saw her hand slip inside the frilly vest she was wearing. "Uh uh," he said as her fingers closed around a small gun-shaped bulge. "Don't think for a second I can't turn your insides to outsides before you even draw that little girlie gun."

She froze, eyes narrowed at him, trying to make up her mind whether to go for it or not. Mal had a sense he knew her type--couldn't ever believe she wasn't better and smarter than everyone else around her. He watched her patiently, waiting for the tell, never doubting it would come.

It did. The muscles in her hand twitched a half-second before she started to draw. He shot a hole in her middle before she even got the gun pointed in his direction.

He walked over to where she lay bleeding and gurgling on the floor and pocketed the small gun that had fallen out of her hand. Then he calmly raised his pistol and shot her once more, in the head. His momma had always told him, anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice.

Once he was sure the woman wasn't going to be getting up again, he holstered his gun and spared a glance at Jayne, still beating the living shit out of the other guard. Mal left him to it and sank to his knees at Kaylee's side.

The right side of her jaw was puffy and pink, her lip split open and bleeding. She flinched at his touch and her eyes flew open but they were glassy and unfocused, like she didn't even see him.

_Kaylee Kaylee Kaylee_. His heart thudded in his chest as he sliced the cord at her wrists and pulled her gently into his arms. He hadn't gotten to her fast enough. He'd taken too gorram long finding her and look what had happened. They'd beaten his bright girl.

She blinked a couple of times and then finally seemed to focus on him.

"Cap'n," she whispered, so soft he could barely hear it.

"There's my girl." He wanted to hug her to him, but he was afraid he'd hurt her worse. Instead he gave her a smile meant to convey comfort he didn't quite feel qualified to give.

She reached up and pressed her fingertips to his forehead, tracing a crease along his brow. "You look cross."

He smoothed her hair back from her face and tried not to look at the way the marks on her arms stood out bright pink against the paleness of her skin. "That's on account of I am cross, Kaylee. You gave us all a mighty scare, disappearing like that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Yeah, I guess maybe I'll let you off the hook this time."

She brought her hand to her mouth and stared at the blood that came away on her fingertips. "I must look something awful, huh?"

"Not a bit. You're the prettiest thing I ever saw."

"You're lyin'." She gave him a faint, fragile smile.

"Possible you _may_ have looked prettier, but you're still a far sight prettier than me. Well, maybe not prettier than _me_, but you're definitely prettier than Jayne."

It won him a real smile, not so fragile, with more of his Kaylee in it. The smile he'd been aching to see again.

"Kaylee alright?" asked Jayne, coming to stand over them.

"Yeah," said Mal. "I think she is."

"Hey, Jayne. You come to save me, too?" Kaylee's voice was a thin echo of her usual chirp.

"Sure did." Jayne shifted from foot to foot like an awkward, big-boned boy and tried to wipe his bloody hands off on his pants. When that didn't seem to work he settled for shoving them in his armpits. "You got me in a heap of trouble with the captain, you know."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Never was there a tale of greater adversity than Jayne's. He starts to tell it, I may have to cry."

"Can we go home now?" said Kaylee. "I'm ready to go home." He could feel her shaking in his arms, a faint tremor that ran right through him.

Mal held her as tight as he dared. "Sure, _bǎo bèi_, anything you want."

* * *

  
Despina was a smallish moon, drifting along in its quiet orbit just beyond Beylix's icy rings. She was greener and sunnier than the cloud-covered planet that dominated her sky, but on the cold side and with a bit more than her fair share of annual rainfall.

_Serenity_ had set down in a clearing a few miles outside of Brigham, a modest-sized logging town. A light, steady rain fell on the hull, filling the cargo bay with a soothing, gentle patter. At least it would have been soothing and gentle if it weren't for the snarling and rattling of the wolverines drowning it out.

Zoe tried to remember how long it'd been since she'd even heard the sound of rain, then decided it didn't really matter and gave up wondering.

Ham Kennet was slowly circumventing the wolverine cages, inspecting his newly delivered merchandise with the eye of an experienced rancher. He was a sallow sort of man, well past his middle years, who favored a stiff knee with the aid of a gnarled wooden cane.

The two men he'd brought to do the loading and lifting were passing the time by engaging in a spitting contest off the end of _Serenity_'s ramp. They wore rancher's boots and canvas chore jackets and hats with flannel earflaps--definitely farmhands rather than mercs.

"You're really gonna breed these things?" said Wash, fiddling absently with the strap on his holster. He seemed to have pretty much given up on trying to look menacing once they'd gotten a good look at Kennet and his hayseeds.

"Sure am. Fur's worth a damn fortune on the black market."

"And you don't mind the smell?"

Kennet tapped the side of his nose and grinned. "Lost my sense of smell in a mine accident a few years back."

Good thing, thought Zoe, because the damp really was not making the beasts' odor any sweeter.

"This one ain't moving," said Kennet, peering into the cage of their lately re-imprisoned escape artist.

Zoe and Wash exchanged a silent look of alarm.

"He's sleepy," piped up River from her perch on the mule. "Needs a nap after his adventures."

Kennet poked his cane into the crate and nudged the wolverine. It answered with a lethargic snarl.

"That must be it," said Wash. "Just sleepy. He's healthy as a horse, though. A horse that's really healthy."

Kennet shrugged and called out to his men to start loading the crates onto the back of the wagons. As they carried the first of the crates down the ramp Kennet dropped a small sack into Zoe's hand. It jingled promisingly as she palmed it and she let herself relax just the tiniest bit.

Wash wandered over to stand beside her. "You know, I think I'm actually going to miss the little devils."

Zoe raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. "That so?"

"I was starting to fantasize about keeping one as a pet. I'd name him Fluffy, we'd go for walks, and frolic together as everyone around us screamed in terror."

Zoe laughed. Even before she'd ever let herself like the man, Wash had always been able to draw forth her laughter. And that laughter had been like a balm to her parched soul in those bleak and barren years after the war. And so she'd opened herself up, let down her guard, and fallen in love with this ridiculous, goofy man with terrible taste in shirts.

It'd been a long time since Wash had made her laugh and she'd missed it. She'd been missing a lot of things lately and decided it was past time to do something about it.

She captured Wash's hand in hers and tugged him into the back of the cargo bay, away from River and Kennet's men. He looked a mite surprised, but not displeased, which was a promising start.

"Listen, honey," she said squeezing his hand affectionately. "I know I've been offish lately, and I just wanted to say I'm sorry--for letting things get so cold between us."

"Well, I've been kind of a jackass, so who could blame you? What say we just call it even and forget the whole thing?" His blue eyes were clear and guileless.

"That's sweet, dear, but I seem to recall something about two wrongs not making a right."

"No, but three lefts make a right just fine." He grinned at her. "Trust me on this, I'm a pilot."

There was just something irresistibly endearing about her man. She hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Ahem."

Zoe reluctantly tore herself away from Wash and looked up. Shepherd Book was leaning over the catwalk railing and smiling down at them.

"Got a wave from the captain," he said. "He wants us back on Beylix as soon as we're done here. They've got Kaylee. "

* * *

  
"Starboard hatch green for docking, Shuttle Two." Wash's voice crackled cheerfully over the shuttle's comm system. "Welcome back, Captain."

"Thanks, Wash." Mal felt the shuttle lurch as he guided her into _Serenity_'s docking bay. "Shuttle Two locked."

He jumped out of the pilot's seat and hurried into the back to help Inara, who was struggling to unfasten her safety harness one-handed. "Let me," he said, reaching for the buckle.

"Thank you." Inara smiled gratefully, which right there was enough to tell him she was hurting pretty good. That and the fact that she was about three shades paler than normal.

Jayne threw open the shuttle's hatch and bent to scoop up Kaylee like she weighed nothing at all.

"Jayne, I can walk just fine," she protested.

"Hush up," the big merc growled. "Captain said to see to you and that's what I'm doin'. Don't want you falling down all those steps on the way to the infirmary and getting yourself even more banged up than you already are."

He carried her out through the shuttle's hatch and Mal heard the greetings of the crew waiting just outside, their reactions a mixture of relief at having Kaylee back and alarm at seeing the state she was in.

Mal would have liked to carry Inara, but he didn't think she'd thank him for it, proud and stubborn as she was. "Ready to get up?" he asked.

She nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Mal slipped a hand carefully around her waist as she draped her good arm over his shoulder and allowed him to help her to a standing position. Her left arm hung limp and useless at her side and he was almost certain the shoulder was dislocated.

Most of the others seemed to have followed Kaylee and Jayne to the infirmary already, but Zoe was waiting for him just outside the shuttle as he guided Inara onto the catwalk.

"Welcome back," said Zoe, darting a worried glance at Inara.

"You do the thing?" asked Mal as they started toward the infirmary.

"Sure did." A smile curled the corners of her mouth as she held up a small bag of coins and jingled it for him.

"That's what I like to hear. Now, what the hell's that horrible smell on my boat?"

"You don't even want to know, sir."

It took a while for Inara to get down the steps from the catwalk, but Simon was waiting for them at the bottom. "Kaylee sent me to check on you," he said, looking concerned. "She said you were hurt worse than she was."

Inara shook her head stiffly. "I'm fine, Simon, I just hurt my shoulder."

"Dislocated," said Mal, and saw the doc's curt, professional nod of agreement as he observed Inara's slow, painful movements.

Kaylee was sitting up on the counter in the infirmary, pressing an ice pack to her face while Jayne hovered around her like a mother hen, along with Book and Wash. Her eyes clouded with concern when she saw Inara.

Mal knew it must be tearing her up inside to see how Inara'd been hurt trying to rescue her and he felt bad for the girl. Hell, it just about killed him to see Inara like this, too.

For her part, Inara was trying her damnedest not to show how much pain she was in. She was one hell of a lady. Mal admired her for it, but he knew the effort had to be a strain.

"Whyn't you all take Kaylee upstairs, get her something to eat," he said while Simon helped Inara lay down on the exam table.

They filed out obediently, throwing sympathetic looks over their shoulders. Inara seemed to relax a bit once they'd gone, and stopped trying so hard to act like she was made of stone. She wore the pain on her face clear as day now, etched in lines around her eyes and mouth.

"Are your fingers numb?" said Simon, gently manipulating her arm. "Can you feel this?"

Mal gestured toward the door. "You want me to--"

"Stay." She winced as Simon gave her an injection. "Please."

"Sure," said Mal, moving to stand beside her. He took hold of her good hand and felt her fingers intertwine with his. Her skin was cold and he held onto her tightly, trying to transfer some of his warmth to her small hand.

Inara's eyes followed Simon warily as he felt around her injured shoulder; she knew what was coming as surely as Mal did.

"Hey," said Mal gently. He pressed his hand against her cheek and turned her face to him, away from Simon. "Look at me, okay? Let the doc do his thing and it'll be over before you know it."

Whatever Simon had doped her with had already started to do its work because the tension in her face had eased and she was breathing a lot slower and easier than she had been a minute ago.

"It's not bad at all," said Simon soothingly as he manipulated her arm. "I saw this man once, back in the E.R. on Osiris, he fell off a grav lift and dislocated both shoulders _and_ cracked his pelvis. We had to--"

Inara gasped as Simon jerked the bone back into place, but she didn't cry out. Mal squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"All done," said Simon. "It should start feeling better soon." He slipped a sling over her head and guided her bad arm into it.

"See there," said Mal. "Easy peasy."

She smiled fuzzily. "Feels better... I'm just going to... rest for a few..."

He smiled as her eyes fluttered closed. "You do that."

She forced her eyes open again. "Mal?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't leave."

"Never." He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. "I'm right here."

"You always take care of us," she murmured sleepily before drifting off.

* * *

  
Mal woke with a start, momentarily disoriented. He'd stayed in the infirmary with Inara until late, when she'd recovered enough to retire to her shuttle. He was in his own bunk now, but he'd been dreaming that he was back home in the kitchen of his momma's ranch house and there was bacon frying on the stove--

He sat up. Inhaled deeply and got a whiff of just about the best odor in all the 'verse.

Bacon.

He dressed and pulled on his boots just as fast as he could, and followed the heavenly smell all the way down the foredeck to the galley.

"Mornin', Cap'n!" said Kaylee cheerfully when she spotted him. The bruise on her face had purpled dramatically overnight and she wore long pants and sleeves to hide her arms and legs, but she seemed as high spirited as ever despite her experience the day before.

He laid an affectionate hand on top of her head. "How's my girl?"

"Glad to be home," she said, and her eyes almost matched the smile she gave him.

Mal moved to the stove, where Jayne was hunched over a frying pan. "That bacon I smell?"

"Yup," said Jayne, transferring several strips of deliciously greasy meat onto a plate.

"Real bacon? Sliced off the backside of an honest-to-God mud-loving hog?"

"Yup."

"And eggs," added Shepherd Book, holding up a bowl of frothy yellow liquid that he was stirring with a whisk.

"And strawberries!" called Kaylee from the table.

Mal reached out to snag himself a piece of the bacon as Jayne walked by, and got a whack on the knuckles for his trouble. "Ow!"

"That there's for Kaylee," growled Jayne. "You can just wait your turn, Captain."

Kaylee beamed as Jayne set the plate in front of her. She popped a strip of bacon into her mouth and held another out to Simon, sitting beside her.

Mal poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee that was a pleasing shade of brown and went to sit down at Kaylee's other side. He tried to sneak a piece of bacon off her plate while she was busy looking at Simon, but she caught him and gave him another thump on the knuckles.

"You heard Jayne, wait your turn!"

"Just where did this sudden bounty of riches come from, anyway?" he asked, sucking on his sore knuckle. "Don't tell me ya'll already went and spent all our paycheck on food?"

"Not a bit," said Kaylee. "It's all gifts from the parents of those girls you rescued."

"A group of them showed up at dawn bearing baskets of fresh food," said Book. "And several crates of what appears to be a rather competently home-brewed whiskey. Not that I would know about such things."

"And that ain't even the best part," said Jayne. "Magistrate sent word for us to come by and visit him at our 'earliest convenience,' on account of there bein' a reward for the capture of one Hope Leung, wanted in three systems for kidnapping and slave-trading."

"Huh," said Mal, hardly able to take it all in. He wasn't used to good things happening.

"And Woo-Ping even sent over a couple of elements for the stove when he heard about what happened," said Kaylee. "Which is how come we can cook all this fine food."

Zoe and Wash walked into the kitchen arm in arm, nuzzling and cooing at each other like a couple of lovebirds.

"Morning, you two," said Kaylee with a sly grin.

"Good morning, dear friends," said Wash, sliding into a seat across from her. Zoe poured two cups of coffee and set one down in front of her husband, trailing her hand along the back of his neck.

"It's about damn time ya'll were back to bumpin' fuzzies," said Jayne, observing them sagely from the stove. "Two a you are downright unpleasant to be around when you ain't getting' your ends wet."

There was a moment of awkward silence and then everyone--including Zoe and Wash--erupted into laughter.

"What?" said Jayne.

Mal sat back in his chair, enjoying the bustle of activity around him, letting the bubble and swell of friendly voices and laughter wash over him for a minute.

"It's Pandemonium," whispered River in Mal's ear.

He started, nearly spilling his coffee. "Panda-who?"

"Pandemonium. The capital of Hell, dwelling-place of demons."

He turned around in his chair to look at her. "Sounds real nice. You been at the preacher's bible again?"

She smiled innocently, swirling her skirt around her knees. "Pandemonium also means a very noisy place, wild uproar, or state of disorder."

"Now that's more like it," said Mal, smiling back at her.

She deftly swiped a piece of bacon off Kaylee's plate and sank into the chair on the other side of her brother. Jayne moved around the table, passing out plates of food to everyone.

Everyone except Mal, apparently. "Am I invisible?" he said as Jayne passed by him. "A man could die of starvation before anyone offered him any breakfast around here."

"Here you go, Captain," said Book, swooping in to drop a plate piled high with eggs, bacon and fresh fruit in front of him.

"That's more like it," said Mal. "Saved a bunch of girls from slavers, oughta get some bacon for my trouble."

"Inara!" chirped Kaylee.

Mal looked up and saw Inara standing in the hatchway. "Is that really bacon and eggs?" she asked.

Her arm was in the sling Simon had given her but otherwise she looked back to her old self--all fancy clothes and makeup and hair done up as pretty as ever. And not even a trace of grogginess, despite the fact she'd been doped to the gills the night before. The woman really was a wonder. Mal had no idea how she managed it.

He stood up and pulled out the chair next to him with exaggerated courtesy. Inara sat down with a grace that seemed to require a little more effort than usual, the only indication that she was still in any kind of pain.

"Here," he said, moving his plate over to her place. "Saved this for you special."

Their eyes met and she gave him an almost timid smile, all the more bewitching for its artlessness. "Thank you."

For some reason, he got the feeling she was talking about more than just eggs, and felt his blood starting to rush to places it had no business rushing to.

"I'll go get you some tea, 'Nara," said Kaylee.

Mal put a restraining hand on Kaylee's shoulder. "I'll do it. Eat your breakfast."

In the kitchen he put on the kettle and leaned back against the counter, chewing a piece of bacon while he waited for the water to boil. Muted morning light leaked through the skylight, laying a soft yellow blanket over everyone gathered around the kitchen table. He watched--a part of them, yet a measure apart--as they ate and chattered and argued and joked and got on just the way a crew--the way a family--ought.

It was one of those rare perfect moments when everything comes together with an almost audible click, and suddenly, for that one instant, everything falls into place. All the people that Mal cared about most in the 'verse were here--safe, happy and together--which was just the way it ought to be.

But already his mind was moving on to other things--supplies to be bought, repairs to be made, jobs to be found. The moment was nice but it wouldn't last. The good ones never did.

That's why he always had to keep moving. Keep working. Keep flying.

  
_  
As I row, row, row  
Going so slow, slow, slow  
Just down below me is the old sea  
Just down below me is the old sea  
Nobody knows, knows, knows  
So many things, things, so  
So out of range  
Sometimes so strange  
Sometimes so sweet  
Sometimes so lonely_

The further I go  
More letters from home never arrive  
And I'm alone  
All of the way  
All of the way  
Alone and alive

You just have to go, go, go  
Where I don't know, know, know  
This is the thing  
Somebody told me  
A long time ago

\--Folk song of Earth-That-Was, circa 2010*  


_* Recent research by the Institute for Cultural and Historical Studies, Londinium, attributes this song to late 20th/early 21st century songwriter Patty Griffin._

 

**THE END**


End file.
